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ADVERTISEMENT. 



[THE Translator thinks it quite unnecessary 
to say any thing in praise of the present 
work, as M. MarmonteVs character -, as a fine 
writer i is too well established for him to be 
uble to raise or depress it : After having had 
the honour of an Empress among his trans- 
lators, it would be a kind of presumption to 
give the ivork any other encomium. But he 
thinks it necessary to acquaint the reader, 
that M. Marmontel has so peculiar, and at 
the same time so elegant a style, that in some 
places it was impossible to give the full spirit 
of the original; but he has endeavoured to do 
it as nearly as possible. 



I /to 



-THE 

AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 



.1 KNOW, and it must not be dissembled, that 
.the fact, upon which the following piece is grounded, 
may be looked upon rather as a popular opinion, 
than an historical truth. But that opinion has so 
.universally prevailed, and the idea of a blind old 
man reduced to beggary, is now so associated with 
the name of Belisarius, that the latter never occurs 
without presenting to the imagination, a picture of 
the former. 

In this light, therefore, Belisarius is here repre- 
sented : in every other particular, I have relied upon 
the faith of history, and Procopius has been my 
guide. But I pay no sort of regard to that defama- 
tory libel, which, under the title of Anecdotes or 
Secret History, has been attributed to him. On the 
contrary, it appears to me demonstrable, that such 
r an indigested mass of scandal, falsehood, and de- 
traction, could not be his, but of some declaimer, 
whose honesty and genius were much upon a level '. 

Of all the historians, who writ in the same period 
with Procopius, or who succeeded him during a space 
of five hundred years, not one has made mention of 

1 An Advocate of Caesr.rea has been supposed to be the 
author. Vide Mem.de V Acad, des Inscriptions et Belles Let' 
Mes* torn. 21, 



IV 

these Anecdotes. Agathias, who was a cotemporary 
writer, enumerates the works of our author, but is 
totally silent in regard to the work in question. Will 
it be urged, that it was concealed? In the course of 
three hundred years from the date of it, it is clear, 
that it might have been public: the learned Photius 
would certainly have known it, and yet it appears, 
that he never heard of it. Suidas, a writer of the 
eleventh century, is the first who imputes this de- 
spicable satire to Procopius: upon his authority the 
notion has been adopted, and, without ever being 
examined, has passed current among the learned 2 . 
Writers, however, are still extant, by whom the au- 
thority of Suidas has been doubted 3 : and there are 
not wanting those who have roundly denied it. Of 
this number was Eichelius, in the notes and preface 
to the edition he has given us. He sets out with 
proving, that it is neither true nor probable that 
Procopius was the author ; and he adds, though he 
were, that a declamation so extravagant, so shame- 
less and absurd, would be entitled to no sort of credit. 
The only difficulty that remains with me is, that the 
illustrious author of the Spirit of Laws has given a 
degree of sanction to the forgery. I know the 
weight of so respectable an authority, but it must 
yield to the force of evidence. 

Ts it possible to believe, that a writer, who was a 
statesman, and had the esteem of the age in which he 
lived, for the little gratification of traducing his bene- 
factors, would leave behind him a work of defama- 

2 Vossius, Grotius, &c. 
Pere Combesils, La Mothe, &c. 



. 



tion, which could. not fail to blacken his own me- 
mory, by reducing after-ages to the necessity of 
considering him either as the author of a virulent 
libel, or a flatterer of the meanest servility? Can it 
be supposed that he, who had in every other respect 
maintained the dignity of a judicious historian, could 
of a sudden be so lost to all sense of decency, as to 
desire, upon his own bare assertion, that the cha- 
racter of " a stupid blockhead, a compound of rus- 
" ticity and folly 4 ," should be fixed upon the em- 
peror Justinian, that wise and virtuous old man, who 
from obscurity, from the lowest station in the army, 
raised himself, by his valour and his talents, to the 
highest rank, obtained the joint suffrages of the 
senate, the army, and the people, in his favour, and 
rose at last to the imperial throne? Is it credible 
that he, who composed the history of his own times 
in a strain of candour, truth, and knowledge, could 
be capable of transmitting to us concerning Justi- 
nian, that he was " stupid and sluggish as an ass, 
" that he suffered himself to be led by the nose, 
" and that he frequently pricked up his ears 5 ; that 
" he was not a man, but a fury in human shape 6 : 
" that his mother, before she conceived him, had 
" commerce with a demon that was invisible, but 

4 Insignis homo stolid itatis, summa cum infantia summa- 
que cum rusticitate conjnnct33. 

5 Nam mire stolidus ftrit, et lento quam simillimus asino, 
capistro facile trahendus, cui et aures subinde agitarentur. 

6 Quod vero non homo, sed, sub humana specie, furia sit 
Justinianus, documento esse possunt ingentia quibus affecit 
homines mala : quippe enim ex atrocitate facinorum Au- 
toris virium immanitas palam fiat. 



?1 
tf palpable to the touch 7 ; and, in short, that he 
" brought such a number of calamities upon the 
" empire, as could not be equalled in the annals of 
" all former ages 8 ? Could an author of reputation, 
who, in the style of sober history, had represented 
Belisarius as an accomplished hero, adorned with 
triumph and with glory, descend so lowly from his 
character, as to call him at last, " a man despised 
" by the world, and pointed at for a fool 9 ?" and 
this too in the crisis of that hero's fame, when he 
was called upon to be the guardian of the state by* 
the expulsion of the Huns ? 

It is true, that in the original Greek, some have 
pretended to trace the style of Procopius : but did 
they discern bis good sense and manner of think- 
ing ? I will grant that he might be susceptible of 
ingratitude, and of spleen and malice to his bene- 
factors ! but would the rancour of an able writer 
vent itself in boyish declamation ? Would he think 
puerility sufficient to efface his former strain of pa- 
negyric, and to retract the facts upon which that pa- 
negyric was founded ? It is not likely that Procopius, 
the historian, would so trifle with posterity, as to 
sit down in a fit of malevolence, to prove in form r 

^ Eo gravida antequam esset, quandarn genii speciem ad 
se ventitasse, quae non ad visum, sed ad contactum se prse- 
beret, accubaretque sibi, et quasi uiaritus se conjugem 
iniret. 

8 Is demum fait Romanis tot tantorumque malorum Au- 
tor, quot et quanta audita non sunt ex omni superiorunv 
aetatum memoria. 

9 Tunc eniua vero contemni ab omnibus, et veluti dement 
subsannari. 



Vil 

that Justinian and his ministers " were not men, but 
" a set of evil demons, who stalked the earth in 
" human shape, and heaped destruction upon man- 
" kind l0 " Of such a degree of infatuation I should 
be almost inclined to acquit him, though all his 
cotemporaries were to depose against him : most 
assuredly I shall do so now, when there is no other 
evidence but that of a single man who lived five 
hundred years after him. 

It is Procopius the historian, and not the writer 
of scandalous memoirs, that I have followed : I 
have consulted him in his genuine work, and from 
thence I have copied the character of my hero, 
his modesty, his benevolence, his affability, the sim- 
plicity of his manner, his beneficence, and, above 
all, that fund of humanity which was the basis of his 
virtues, and made him the idol of the people. " It 
" was the delight," says my author, " of the citi- 
u zens of Byzantium, to behold Belisarius coming 
" forth every morning to the Forum. — He was dis- 
" tinguished by the size and the graceful proportions 
" of his stature. To the dignity of his person, he 
u added such an air of meekness, benignity, and 
u cheerful demeanour to all who came in his way, 
" that- he might have passed for one of the ordinary 
" rank of people. — His munificence to his sol- 
" diers was unbounded. — To the husbandman and 
" the labourer of the field he behaved with such 
" a tender concern, that while he commanded, they 

IO Hi nunquam homines (mihi) visi sunt, sed perniciosi 

daemones. Humanas induti formas, quasi semi homines 

furia?, sic universum terrarum orbem convulseruiit. 



" were suffering no kind of outrage from the army, 
" His care, moreover, extended to all the fruits of 
" the earth: he provided with solicitude that his 
" troopers should not trample down the corn grow- 
" ing up in the field ; and to touch any part of the 
n farmer's store, without leave from the owner, was 
" made penal throughout his army "." 

21 Erat igitur Bisantinis civibus voluptati, Belisarium in- 
tueri in forum quotidie prodeuntem.— — — Pulchritudo hunc 
magnitudoque corporis honestabat. Humilem prasterea se^ 
benignumque adeo, atque aditu obviis quibusque perfaci- 
lem exhibebat, ut fnfimae sortis viro persimilis videretur. 
In suos praecipue milites munificentia caeteros antei- 

bat.- Erga agricultores, agrestesque homines, tanta hie 

indulgentia ac providentia utebatur, ut Belisario ductante 
exercitu, nullam hi vim paterentur. Segetes insuper, dum 
in agris maturescerent, diligentius tuebatur, ne forte equo- 
ni'm greges has devastarent ; frugesque cseteras, invitis do- 
minis, suos attingere prohibebat, Proc, de Bdh Goth, 
lib, iii. 




Published Sep. 18. 1806. fy Scateha-d kZeUxrman Ave Maria 1 coze. 



BELISARIUS. 



CHAP. L 



IN the old age of Justinian, the empire, weakened 
by long and violent struggles, hastened to its ruin. 
Every part of the administration was neglected : laws 
were disregarded, the finances squandered, and mi- 
litary discipline was totally despised. The Emperor, 
weary of war, purchases with his gold a shameful 
peace from his enemies ; whilst his few remaining 
troops loitered in inaction, useless yet expensive to 
the state ; and their commanders, wholly devoted to 
pleasure, renewed their warlike ideas, and at the 
same time, dispelled the languors of idleness in the 
exercise of the chase. 

One night after this diversion, when a few of these 
young captains were supping together at a castle in 
Thrace, a blind old man, led by a child, stood- at 
the door, entreating their hospitality. Youth is ea- 
sily moved to compassion ; they caused him to enter. 
It was now autumn ; and the cold, which was al- 
ready set in, had seized the old man : they there* 
fore ordered him to sit by the fire. 



10 

Supper was not yet ended ; the chiefs were in full- 
spirits ; and their conversation turned on the evils 
of the state. This was indeed a large field for cen- 
sure ; and here disappointed vanity gave itself loose 
reigns. Each exaggerated his past actions ; and 
boasted of what he might still have done, had not 
his services been despised and his talents disregarded. 
Every evil that befel the empire, in their estimation, 
was owing to the neglect of placing such men as 
themselves at the head of affairs. Thus did they 
govern the world over their cups ; and each glass 
brought an increase of infallibility to their schemes. 

The old man, sitting at the corner of the fire, 
listened and smiled with pity. One of them per- 
ceived it, and thus spoke: And have you, good man, 
the presumption to treat what we are saying as ridi- 
culous? Not as ridiculous, replied the old man, but 
as a little trifling, as is natural to your age. The 
reply confounded them. You imagine you have 
reason to complain, continued he, and I also think 
it is wrong to neglect you ; but this is the least of 
our evils. Lament indeed that the empire has lost 
its power and its glory; that a prince worn out with 
cares and old age is obliged to see with another's 
eyes, and to employ unfaithful hands in his service. 
But in this general calamity, is it worth while to think 
of one's self? In your time, replied one at the table, 
was it the custom for people not to be concerned 
for themselves ? Well, what of that, times change, 
for now it is the chief care. So much the worse, 
said the old man ; and if this then be your case, to 
neglect you is to do you justice. Is it to insult 



11 

people, said the youth, that you ask their hospi- 
tality ? T do not insult yon, replied the old man ; I 
speak as a friend, and I pay for my sanctuary by 
telling you the truth. 

The young Tiberius, afterwards the virtuous Em- 
peror, then in the company, was struck with the 
venerable aspect and grey hairs of this blind man. 
You speak to us, said he, with wisdom •, but with a 
little too much severity : you require us to devote 
ourselves to our country ; this to be sure is an exalted 
virtue ; but, at the same time, it is no duty. It is a 
duty you owe your country, replied the old man 
with firmness ; or rather it is the foundation of your 
duties and of every military virtue. AVhoever de- 
votes himself to the service of his country, should sup- 
pose her insolvent ; for what he hazards for her is 
inestimable. But he must, at the same time, expect 
to find her ungrateful : for whoever looks for a re- 
ward for a free and generous sacrifice of himself, is 
foolishly inconsistent. There is nothing but the love 
of glory, and an enthusiasm for virtue, that is worthy 
of animating you. And what matters it then, how 
your services are received? Your recompence is in- 
dependent an the caprice of a minister or the dis- 
cernment of the sovereign. The common soldier, 
indeed, may be induced by the hopes of booty ; he 
may hazard his life for a pittance ta maintain it. 
This I readily comprehend ; but you, Sir, born to 
affluence, with whom to live is to enjoy, when you 
relinquish the softer scenes of life to undergo fatigue 
and labour, opposing yourself voluntarily to various 
perils, can you derogate so far from the generous 



12 

act, as to desire wages for it ? It is depreciated by 
payment: who attends to the advantage of salary, 
is a mercenary slave ; nor is the case altered by the 
quantity of reward ; the man who appraises his ta- 
lents, and converts them to profit, is to thi: full as 
venal as the soul that sells itself for a piece of money. 
What I have said of pecuniary recompence, I affirm 
also of the allurements of ambition : honours, titles, 
rank, and the favours of the sovereign, what are they 
but wages? He who desires them has his hire. We 
must either give or sell ourselves : there is no other 
alternative. The former is the act of freedom, the 
latter of slavery : you, gentlemen, will incline to that 
which agrees best with the propensities of your 
hearts. — At this rate, honest friend, said the com- 
pany, you place sovereigns in a very easy condition. 
— Were my discourse addressed to sovereigns, re- 
turned the blind stranger, I should tell them, that as 
it is your duty to observe a disinterested conduct, so 
it is theirs to be just and upright. — What, then, is it 
just, do you think, to give merit its due recompence? 
— Most certainly it is ; but he to whom service is 
rendered, is to dispense the reward, and if he omits 
to do it, it is his misfortune. But to go a little far- 
ther: which of us, in weighing our own merits, can 
be sure of holding the balance with an even hand? 
To illustrate this, in your condition, for instance;- in 
order that every body should be dealt with to his 
satisfaction, it would be necessary that each should 
command in chief, and then what becomes of subor- 
dination ? This, you see, is impracticable. Let me 
then assume it as a truth, that government may in- 



13 

cidentally want penetration, and even equity ; but 
still it will be more discerning and wise in its ap- 
pointments, than if it were implicitly to take the re- 
commendation each of you would give in favour of 
himself. — And who are you that talks to us in this 
strain ? says the young master of the feast, with an 
elevation of voice. — Belisarius, replied the old man. 
The surprise occasioned by this discovery need 
not be expressed : the astonishment and confusion 
that seized their young minds at the name of Beli- 
sarius, at the name of him who had so often con- 
quered in three parts of the globe, will suggest them* 
selves to every imagination. The w 7 hole company 
remained motionless, and a deep silence marked the 
respect with which they were impressed. Reveren- 
tial awe possessed them, and forgetting that Belisa- 
rius was blind, not one of them dared to lift up his 
eyes. Tiberius at length broke silence : Thou ve- 
nerable man, said he, how unjust and cruel has for- 
tune been to thee ! — to thee, whom the whole em- 
pire, for thirty years together, felt the author of its 
glory arid its flourishing condition ; till at length 
wicked malice framed a charge of treason and re- 
volt ! — Thou art that hero, whom the persecuting 
rage of envious men loaded with irons, and barba- 
rously deprived of the organs of sight! — And yet, 
thus basely treated, you can still persevere to incul- 
cate the principles of public spirit and disinterested 
love of country ! — And from whom, says Belisarius, 
would you expect to hear the lessons of virtue?. Are 
the slaves of court-favour to be your moralists? — 
Oh ! shame indelible ! says Tiberius, interrupting 



14 

him ; unparalleled ingratitude ! Posterity will scarce 
believe the monstrous story ! — It must not be dis- 
sembled, repHed Belisarius, that my enemies did 
take me unprovided, and surprise me a little; I never 
expected to be injured to that excess of outrage. I 
had, however, been familiar with the idea of dying 
in the service of the empire ; and whether dead or 
blind, the difference is inconsiderable. Devoted to 
my country, I did not except my eyes. All that I 
hold dearer than my eyes or my life still remains to 
me ; the honour of my character is inviolate, and, 
above all, the virtues of my heart are still mine, un- 
conquered by my enemies. The actions of my life 
may indeed be effaced from the memory of a court ; 
but the memory of mankind will be more retentive ; 
and if it should not, I have the conscious remem- 
brance, and that is sufficient. 

The company, now struck w ; ith admiration, soli- 
cited Belisarius to make one at the table. Excuse 
me, gentlemen, says he, at my age the best place is 
the fire-side. Every civility was tendered to him, 
and he was much importuned to accept the best bed in 
the castle ; he contented himself with a little straw. 
I have often slept harder, says he : but this child, 
who guides me, I recommend to your good offices ; 
for he is more delicate than I am. 

The next morning, as soon as there was light 
enough for his guide, Belisarius departed, before his 
hosts, fatigued with the sport of the preceding day, 
were yet awake. Being informed when they rose, 
that the hero had left the place, they proposed to ge 
In quest of him, in order to provide him with a caj> 



15 

Tiage, and what other conveniencies he might want. 
No, says Tiberius, that will be labour in vain ; Beli- 
sarius has not conceived esteem enough for us, to 
make him willing to receive an obligation. 

The young Tiberius had sensibility and reflection-; 
on his mind an exalted virtue in the very extreme of 
misfortune made the deepest impression. Never, 
says he to one of his friends who came to him from 
the emperor, never shall I forget last night's solemn 
scene ! never shall the words of the venerable man 
be erased from my memory. Humiliating as he 
was, yet his lesson has taught me what a task re- 
mains upon my hands, if I aspire to the dignity of 
my nature; if I mean to be a man. An account of 
this incident reached the ear of Justinian, who de- 
sired an interview with Tiberius. 

Tiberius related the whole with accuracy to the 
emperor, and then, continued he, It is impossible, Sir, 
that so elevated a mind could descend to the baseness 
of the conspiracy laid to his charge ; I would en^ 
gage my life that he is innocent, if a life like mine 
were worthy of being surety for so illustrious a cha- 
racter. I will see him, and confer with him, replied 
Justinian, without disclosing myself to him : in the 
condition of blindness, to which he is reduced, this 
will not be impracticable. Since his release from 
prison, he cannot have removed himself to any con- 
siderable distance : pursue his steps, and entice him, 
if possible, to your country-seat : thither I will come 
in private. This command of the emperor Tiberius 
received with transport, and the next day pursued 
ihe road Belisarius had taken. 



16 



CHAP. II. 



BELISARIUS, in the mean time, begging alms 
as he went, journied on towards an old ruinous 
castle, where his family expected him. He had 
given directions to his young guide, not to mention 
his name on the road ; but the dignified air of his 
countenance, and his whole person', was sufficient to 
interest every beholder. Arriving that night at a 
village, his conductor stopped at the door of an 
house which had a simple, but neat appearance. 

The landlord was entering with a spade in his 
hand : the mien and features of Belisarius attracted 
his attention, and made him curious to know so re- 
spectable a vagrant. A poor invalid, says Belisa- 
rius, an old decrepid soldier! — A soldier! — exclaims 
the villager, and that honour is your recompence .' 
— There is no help for it, replied Belisarius ; the 
greatest misfortune of a sovereign is his inability to 
pay the price of all the blood spilt in his service. 
The heart of the villager was touched by this an- 
swer, and Belisarius was invited to partake of his 
hospitality. 

I here introduce, says the master of the house to 
his wife, a gallant brave veteran, who bears the seve- 
rities of his fate with fortitude of mind : then turn- 
ing to Belisarius, My honest guest, be not ashamed 
of your condition in a family which has been inured 
to misfortunes ; sit you down, we are going to sup- 
per ; while we wait to have it laid upon the table, 






17 
tell me, pray, what wars have you served in? — In the 
wars of Italy, says Belisarius, against the Goths, that 
in Asia against the Persians, and in Africa against 
the Vandals and the Moors. 

At these words the villager could not suppress a 
deep sigh. At this rate then, continued he, you 
made every campaign with Belisarius ? — Yes, every 
campaign : we were never asunder. — Indeed ! that 
excellent man ! the equal composure of his mind ! 
that constant uprightness ! that greatness of soul ! Is 
he still living, pray? for in this solitude it is about 
five and twenty years since I have heard what is 
doing in the world. — Yes, Belisarius is still alive. — 
May Heaven guard and prolong his days ! — If he 
heard your wishes for him, your goodness would af- 
fect him tenderly. — Very like ; and how do they 
say he fares at court ? In great power, to be sure ! 
adored by every body ! — Alas ! envy is ever an at- 
tendant on prosperity. — Very true ; but the emperor 
should be upon his guard against the enemies of so 
great a man, the tutelary genius, the protector of the 
empire ! — He is far gone in years now. — But what 
then ? he will be as great in council, as he was for- 
merly in the field. His wisdom, if he is attended 
to, may, perhaps, be of more extensive use, than even 
his valour.- — And how, says Belisarius, inwardly soft- 
ened, how was he known to you ? — Let us sit down 
to table, answered the villager : your question would 
lead into a long detail, 

Belisarius now felt some secret hints that his land- 
lord must be some officer who had formerly served 
under him ; and had reason to be contented with his 

c 



18 

general. During supper, the latter was inquisitive 
concerning the events of war in Italy and the East, 
but was totally silent in regard to Africa. Belisarius 
gratified his curiosity in a plain and simple style. 
Let us drink, says the host, at the conclusion of the 
repast, let us drink to the health of your general, 
and may Heaven requite him with its bounty for all 
the evil he heaped on me ! — He ! replied Belisarius, 
did he injure you ? — He discharged his duty, and I 
make no complaint. I have learned in the school 
of adversity to compassionate the distresses of man- 
kind, and you shall know, my honest friend, how 
that lesson was taught me. As you have served in 
Africa, you must have seen the king of the Vandals, 
the unfortunate Gilimer, led by Belisarius in triumph 
to Constantinople, with his wife and children in- 
volved in his captivity. That very Gilimer has 
opened to you his hospitable door ! you have supped 
with him ! — Thou Gilimer ! exclaimed Belisarius ; 
and has not the emperor assigned you a better lot ? 
—He had promised — yes, he promised, and, to do 
him justice, he kept his word. Dignities were of- 
fered to me, and even the rank of a Patrician ; but 
I declined the offer. To him who has been a king, 
and has lost his crown, the only resource is obscurity 
and repose. — Thou Gilimer !— Yes, I am he! that 
vanquished prince, wbo, you may remember, was 
besieged upon the mountain of Papua. There I suf- 
fered unheard-of hardships ■ : the inclemency of the 
winter season, the necessities of famine, the miser- 

1 Vide Procop. de Beilo Vandalico, lib, 2, 




19 
able aspect of a whole people driven to the last de- 
spair, and ready to devour their very wives and chil- 
dren ; the unremitting vigilance of that brave officer 
Pharas, who, even amidst the operations of the siege 
he earned on, never ceased by his remonstrances to 
awaken my feelings both for myself and the miseries 
of my people : all these circumstances, together with 
the entire confidence I had in the uprightness of your 
general, prevailed upon me at length to lay down 
my arms. With what an air of sober dignity did 
Belisarius receive me ! Every proper attention w 7 as 
paid to me by his direction. With what address, 
with what respect did he strive to soften my affliction ! 
The space of near six lustres has elapsed since I have 
dwelt in this solitary retreat, and not a day has 
passed without hearing my most fervent prayers for 
Belisarius. 

I perceive, said Belisarius, in this account of your* 
self, the mild effects of that philosophy, which, even 
on the mountain where you endured so much, could 
make you chant your calamities in song; which gave 
you, when you appeared before Belisarius, that sere- 
nity of countenance, and on his day of triumph ani- 
mated that look of magnanimity, which astonished 
the emperor Justinian, My good guest, replied Gili- 
mer, the strength and weakness of our minds depend 
entirely upon the light in which things appear to us. 
True constancy and fortitude first sprung up in my 
heart, when I began to consider the w 7 orld as the 
sport of fortune. Till then I had lived the most vo- 
luptuous of kings, dissolved in luxury, and ever en- 
tranced in the lap of pleasure ; on a sudden I passed 



20 

from my palace, that scene of revelry and delight, t© 
the cavern of the Moors 2 , where, pillowed upon 
straw, I lived on barley coarsely pounded, and half 
roasted under the cinders. Nay, to such hardship 
was I reduced, that a loaf of bread, sent to me by 
the humanity of an enemy, was an inestimable pre- 
sent. From this situation I fell into captivity, was 
loaded with irons, and walked in the conqueror's 
triumph. In extremities like these, you will agree 
with me, that the heart must break with grief, or rise 
superior to the caprice of fortune. 

You find in that composure of your soul, says Be- 
lisarius, many resources against calamity; and I pro- 
mise to superadd a new motive of consolation before 
we part. 

Their conversation ended here, and each retired 
to rest. 

Gilimer, at the dawn of day, instead of betaking 
himself to the cultivation of his garden, made it his 
first care to enquire how his aged guest had passed 
the night. He found him already up, with his stick 
in his hand, ready to set out on his journey. How ! 
said he, not give us a few days before you leave us! 
— That, replied Belisarius, is not in my power: I 
have a wife and daughter inconsolable during my 
absence. Farewell ! — and hear without emotion 
what remains to be told you: blind and superan- 
nuated as I am, Belisarius will never forget the recep- 



2 Vandali namque omnium sunt, quos sciam, molissimi 
atque delicatissimi j omnium vero miserrimi Maurisii. 

Procop. ibidem* 



21 

tlon you have given him. — How! Belisarius! — It is 
Belisarius who now embraces you. — Righteous Hea- 
ven ! exclaims Gilimer, half wild with astonishment, 
Belisarius blind, and abandoned in his old age ! — 
Even so, replied Belisarius ; and, to shew you the ex- 
treme of cruelty, before they turned him adrift to 
beg his way through the world, his enemies put out 
his eyes. — Amazement! says Gilimer, in a tone of 
grief and horror; can it be possible? who were the 
monsters ? — Envious men, replied Belisarius ; they 
impeached me of designs upon the crown, when my 
thoughts were fixed upon my grave. They had 
credit enough to ruin me, and I was laid in irons. 
The people at length clamoured loudly for my en- 
largement ; it was in vain to resist the popular out- 
cry ; but in restoring me to liberty, they deprived 
me of my sight. Justinian too ordained it ; there the 
wound stuck deeper! You can witness with what 
zeal, with what affection I served him. Even now I 
love him, and grieve that he is surrounded by 
wicked men, who cloud and blacken the evening of 
his days. When I heard that he himself pronounced 
the definitive sentence, I own my constancy failed 
me : the very executioners relented into pity, and 
fell prostrate at my feet. Now all is over ; and, 
thanks be to Heaven, I have but a little time to 
crawl about blind and wretched. — Pass that time 
with me, says Gilimer : here, under my roof, close 
an illustrious life. — That, returned Belisarius, would 
have something soothing in it : but I must give my- 
self to my family, and I now go to expire in their 
arms. Farewell ! 



22 
Gilimer embraced him, bathed him with his tears, 
and could hardly quit his hold. At length he let 
him go with a parting pang, and straining his eyes 
after him, O prosperity ! says he, thou cheat pro- 
sperity ! who can confide in thee? The warlike hero, 
the great, the good Belisarius ! Now indeed he 
may think himself happy who digs his garden. 
T\ ith these words the king of the Vandals resumed 
fcis spade, 



CHAP. III. 

BELISARIUS was now near the asylum of his fa- 
mily, who expected him with impatience, when a 
new incident made him fear that he should never 
reach it. The inhabitants upon the borders of the 
empire were perpetually making incursions into 
Thrace. A party of the Bulgarians had invaded 
the confines, just as a rumour was spread abroad, that 
Belisarius, deprived of his eye-sight, was discharged 
from prison, and was begging his way to his exiled 
family. The idea of attaching to himself so con- 
siderable a man, soon struck the prince of Bulgaria, 
who little doubted but Belisarius would embrace the 
most rapid means of revenge. The road he had 
taken was known, and orders were accordingly issued 
for a diligent pursuit. Towards the close of day, 
Belisarius was overtaken ; force was not to be re- 
sisted ; he was obliged to mount a superb horse 
brought for the purpose. Two Bulgarians conducted 



23 
him, and the hero's guide was obliged to mount be- 
hind one of them. You may trust to us, said the 
Bulgarians ; the prince our master honours your vir- 
tues, and compassionates your misfortunes. Beli- 
sarius interrogating what their prince wanted with 
him — He means, replied the Barbarians, to sate 
your vengeance with the blood of your enemies. — Ah ! 
says the old general, let him leave me unrevenged ; 
his pity is superfluous and cruel. I only ask to die 
in the arms of my family, and you tear me from 
them. Whither would you lead me ? I am ha- 
rassed with fatigue, and rest is necessary to me. — Rest 
you shall have, answered the Bulgarians, and to your 
entire satisfaction, if the master of the neighbouring 
castle should chance not to be upon his guard, or 
in case he does not prove armed with too strong a 
force. 

This castle was in the occupation of an old courtier 
whose name was Bessus. He had commanded at 
Rome during a siege, and, after being guilty of the 
most horrible exactions, retired to this place with ten 
thousand talents '. Belisarius had insisted that he 
should be prosecuted with the utmost severity of the 
law ; but those at court, who do not wish to have 
matters too closely inspected, being all of his party, 
the enquiry was prevented, and Bessus retired to 
enjoy his crimes and his money in rural tranquillity. 

Two Bulgarians, who had been dispatched to re- 
connoitre the place, reported to the chief, that in the 
castle all was pleasure and rejoicing ; that the mis- 

* About 250,000/. sterling. 



24 

fortune of Belisarius was the general talk; and "that 
Bessus celebrated it by a day of festivity, as a punish- 
ment inflicted by Heaven. The abject wretch ! said 
the Bulgarians, he shall not long have it in his power 
to triumph in the downfal of a great man like you. 

They arrived soon at the castle : Bessus was at 
table, surrounded by his sycophants, one of whom 
sung a song of adulation, and, in his stanzas, set 
forth the care of Heaven in the justification of his 
patron, by punishing the accuser with the loss of his 
sight. What more manifest indication could there 
be ! Could innocence enjoy a more splendid tri- 
umph ! Bessus applauded the flattering strain, gra- 
ciously observing, that Heaven is always just, and 
that sooner or later the wicked are brought to con- 
dign punishment. Bessus was right in his observa- 
tion ; for now the Bulgarians, sword in hand, had 
taken possession of the court-yard, and leaving Beli- 
sarius to the care of a few soldiers, made their way 
with hideous uproar to the banquetting-room* Bessus 
turned pale at the sight : confusion and terror fell 
upon him ; his guests were thrown into the utmost 
consternation : without attempting a defence, they fell 
upon their knees and begged their lives. They were 
all instantly seized, and dragged forth to the place 
where Belisarius was guarded. Bessus, by the light 
* of the torches, perceived on horseback a blind old 
man; he immediately knew him, and beseeched his 
mercy. The old general, softened with tenderness, 
conjured the Bulgarians to spare him and his. No, 
said the chief, no mercy here for bad men ! This was 
the signal for slaughter, and Bessus, with all his com- 



rades, were put to death upon the spot. Then or- 
dering all the domestics before him, the commander 
of the gang, who saw they expected the same fate, 
bid them be without fear, and attend him and his 
party at table ; for now, says he, we are your mas- 
ters. He proceeded to regale himself with his fol- 
lowers, and Belisarius was placed in the seat of 
Bessus. 

The vicissitudes of fortune now engrossed the 
thoughts of Belisarius, and this last incident sorely 
grieved him. My friends, said he to the Bulgarians, 
you distress me much by shedding the blood of my 
countrymen. Bessus, it is true, was guilty of avarice 
and inhumanity : I have seen him the author of a 
famine at Rome, and, in the midst of the public mi- 
sery, selling out bread at a most exorbitant price, 
without any feeling for the poor, who were unable 
to buy the necessaries of life. The justice of Heaven 
has overtaken him at last, aud my only regret is that 
he merited his fate : but yet this havock, done in my 
name, is a stain to my honour. Either dispatch me, 
or promise that no outrage of this sort shall happen 
again while I am amongst you. The Bulgarians en- 
gaged to restrain themselves for the future to self- 
defence ; but Bessus's castle was plundered, and the 
next day the invaders, loaded with booty, set for- 
ward with Belisarius. 

As soon as they arrived at their prince's camp, the 
commander in chief, embracing Belisarius, exclaimed, 
in a transport of joy, Come, thou venerable man, and 
try whether we or your own countrymen are the 
Barbarians ! abandoned by the state you served, you 

c 2 



26 

shall find among us both friends and revengers of your 
wrongs. With this he led him by the hand to his 
tent, there bade him repose himself, and gave orders 
that every thing should favour his slumber. At night, 
after a sumptuous repast, at which the name of Beli- 
sarius was celebrated by all the Barbarian chiefs, the 
king withdrew with him to a private conference. He 
began by observing, that it was needless to remon- 
strate on the cruelty of the treatment he had met 
with. The crime, continued he, is horrible ; the 
vengeance due to it should be the same. Your ty- 
rant, with all his accomplices, must be buried under 
the ruins of the imperial throne and palace : his city 
shall be wrapt in flames, and its fragments heaped 
upon the emperor's head. Be thou, illustrious old 
man, be thou the guide of my armies ; instruct me 
how to conquer, and to expiate your injuries. They 
have not robbed you of the mind's eye ; the light of 
wisdom is still yours. Teach me how to rush upon 
them by surprise ; to assault them within their ram- 
parts. Let us exterminate their empire, and not 
leave a trace of it on this side of the seas. If the 
second rank in our new dominion will not suffice 
you, divide with me the imperial dignity ; T agree 
to it. Let the tyrant of Byzantium, before he dies 
beneath repeated blows, behold you once more make 
your triumphant entrance into his city. — And would 
you have me, then, said Beiisarius, after a pause, 
would you have me justify him for depriving me of 
my sight ? It is a long time, Sir, since I declined the 
offer of crowns. Carthage and Italy invited my ac- 
ceptance. I was then young, and in the season of 



27 
ambition ; persecution even then began to shew it- 
self, but I remained inviolably faithful to my prince 
and my country. The duty which then bound me 
continues unextinguished ; and nothing can induce 
me to renounce it. When I promised allegiance to 
the emperor, I hoped to find him just ; and, if he 
proved otherwise, I made no reservation of a tacit 
right to defend, much less to revenge myself. Of 
treason and revolt I am incapable ; and, let me ask, 
how would it serve you to brand me with perjury > 
What valuable service can you expect from a blind 
old man, who has lost the force and vigour of his 
mind ? The enterprise you propose is much above 
my ability, perhaps above your own. In the present 
relaxed state of government, the emperor appears an 
easy conquest ; but he is only grown indolent ; and 
perhaps to rouse him from his languor, and reani- 
mate his spirit, it were desirable for him that an en- 
terprise like your's should be commenced. That 
city, which you think so assailable, is inhabited by 
a people trained to war : and then what a set of men 
to lead them on ! If the superannuated Belisarius 
may well nigh be numbered with the dead, yet 
Narses lives, and even Narses has for competitors 
Mundus, Hermes, Salomon, and many others of a 
Warlike genius. If you will credit me, time alone, 
with its imperceptible hand, must sap the founda- 
tion's, and work the downfal of that great empire. 
You may, indeed, commit a ravage, but that is but 
the war of robbers ; your ambition will aspire to an 
enterprise more worthy of you. Justinian desires 
only to form alliances and confederacies in friend- 



2S 

ship ; let me add, there is not a king who would not 
be honoured by an alliance with him; and, Sir, it 
depends upon yourself to — No, interrupted the Bul- 
garian, I never will be the friend of Justinian ; I will 
hold no alliance with the man who owes his all to 
you, and in return has blinded you for it. Will you 
reign in concert with me, the director of my coun- 
cils, and the genius of my armies? That is the ques- 
tion between us. — My life, replied Belisarius, is in 
your hands; but nothing can exempt me from the 
allegiance I owe my lawful sovereign ; even now, de- 
pressed as I a in, had I the means of serving him, 
though it were against yourself, he might still be as 
sure of me as in my day of prosperity. — An extra- 
ordinary sort of virtue this ! says the Bulgarian. — 
Woe to the people, replied Belisarius, to whom it ap- 
pears extraordinary ! Don't you perceive that it is 
the foundation of good order in society ? That no 
member of any community whatever should arro- 
gate to himself a right to be his own judge and his 
own avenger, is an obvious, a self-evident truth. That 
right of nature is transferred to the magistrate; and 
were it otherwise, there would be as many rebels as 
discontented spirits. W 7 ould you, who now court me 
to punish my master for injustice, would you give 
the same privilege to your own soldiers ? — Would I 
give it ! says the Bulgarian ; they have it without 
my giving it ! but fear restrains it within due bounds, 
— -And with us, Sir, virtue is the restraint, says Beli- 
sarius ; that is an advantage resulting from the man- 
ners ; from manners formed by civilization, the pa- 
rent of social happiness ; and social happiness, let 



29 
me tell you, will never be rightly understood, where 
the institutions of true policy have not been received. 
I will go deeper into this subject, with the freedom 
of a man who has nothing left to fear or hope. What 
sort of subjects do you govern, Sir? A race inured to 
warfare ; that is their best resource : and that very 
warfare to which they are trained, banishes every 
idea of the right use of peace; inclines them to neg- 
lect the valuable riches of ldbour and industry ; to 
trample on the laws of natural justice, and seek a pre- 
carious good in ruin and destruction. If you will 
place before your eyes the consequences that must 
attend your boundless ambition, y*>u will perceive 
how necessarily it results, that, to lay w r aste the ter- 
ritories of the empire, you must leave your own 
without labourers, barren and uncultivated ; that in 
order to subsist one part of the human species, you 
must massacre another ; and that your own subjects 
must fatten with their blood the very land which 
they cover with desolation. — And will not, said the 
king, the influence of w T ar be the same upon the sub- 
jects of the empire ? — By no means, replied Belisa- 
rius ; and moreover the object of our arms is very 
different. The end aimed at by our wars is public 
tranquillity, that we may enjoy the fruits of peace as 
the purchase of our victories. — Generosity, says the 
Bulgarian, is easily extended, where we have the 
superior force. Let us break off the conference. You 
are still illustrious in misery, and I honour your un- 
shaken fidelity ; it deserved a better recompence. 
Repose yourself for this night in my own tent : you 
shall be lodged near our person. To-morrow it shall 



30 

depend upon yourself to direct your guides which 
way you will be conducted. — To the place where 
they seized me, said Belisarius; and then retired to 
the comforts of a pure and tranquil sleep. 

The next day the king of Bulgaria took leave of 
the good old general, and fain would have loaded 
him with presents. They are, says Belisarius, the 
spoils of my country, and you would blush for me, 
if I suffered myself to be so enriched, Some neces- 
sary food for himself and his guide, was all he could 
be induced to accept ; and the same party that laid 
violent hands upon him, escorted him to the place 
from whence he had been carried to the Barbarian 
camp. 



CHAP. IV. 

lHE hero was now at the distance of twelve miles 
from the retreat of his family ; but being exhausted 
by a fatiguing journey, he enquired of his guide whe- 
ther there was not a village in sight, where he might 
rest his wearied limbs, There is one, said his young 
conductor, but it is a considerable way off. Let these 
guards convey you to it, — No, replied Belisarius, I 
should expose the place to the pillage of these rovers. 
He now took leave of his convoy. 

Arriving at the village, the cry that struck his ear 
was, There he is; that's he ; it is the very man. What 
may this mean?- — It is an whole family, said the 
guide, making towards you with great eagerness. By 




PuilLiTitd Jep.xS^iSodiy occuuherd and LeaomnanAvt Uarwlaru . 



31 

this time an old man came forward from the crowd : 
Worthy gentleman, said he. may we crave to know 
who \ou, are? — You plainly see, replied Belisarius, 
that I am a poor indigent wretch, and not a gentle- 
man. — An indigent wretch ! exclaimed the peasant ; 
that is what occasions our curiosity : for we have a 
report here, that, wretched as you seem, you are 
Belisarius. — Lower your voice, my honest friend, 
replied the general ; and if my misfortunes touch 
you, afford me a shelter under your roof. These 
words were scarcely uttered, when he felt the villager 
embracing his knees : he raised the honest country- 
man, and went with him into an humble cot. 

Fall down, my children, said the villager to his 
son and two daughters, fall down at the feet of this 
illustrious hero, it was he protected us from the ra- 
vage of the Huns ; but for him our little habitation 
had been reduced to ashes ; but for him, my chil- 
dren, your father w 7 ould have been butchered before 
your eyes, your little babes would have been torn 
from you, and hurried into captivity ; but for him, 
you never would have raised your heads again ; you 
are indebted to him for life, and all that can be 
dearer than life. Venerate him the more for his 
present condition, respect his misfortunes, and weep 
over your unhappy country. 

Belisarius, dissolving inwardly with tenderness at 
the grateful sentiments of this little family, and over- 
powered by their blessings on his head, could only 
answer tb?ra with the dumb eloquence of his em- 
braces. Condescend, illustrious hero, said the two 
women, to receive to your arms these two little inno- 



32 

cents, who have found in you a second father. We 
shall never cease to awaken in their memories a due 
sense of the honour they will now receive by salut- 
ing their great deliverer, and being caressed in his 
embrace. Each mother presented her own child, 
and placed him on the general's knees. The little 
infants smiled with young astonishment, and raising 
their arms seemed to offer up their thanks. And 
can you now, said Belisarius, think me an object of 
compassion? Does there at this moment breathe a 
man more sincerely happy than myself? But tell me, 
how has it happened that you had any knowledge of 
me ? — A young nobleman, replied the villager, passed 
through this place yesterday, and enquired if w 7 e had 
not seen a blind old man go by; you answer the de- 
scription he gave us. We assured him we had seen 
no such person ; he then charged us to keep a good 
look-out, and let you know, that a friend expects 
you at the place where you are going. He said you 
were in want of every thing, and requested us to pay 
you every attention in our power: he even promised 
to requite us for it. Alas ! we told him that we were 
all variously employed ; some in the labours of the 
field, others in domestic cares, and had but little 
leisure to gape after travellers as they pass by. 
Then quit your employments, said the young lord, 
and omit every thing rather than the acts of bene- 
volence the good old man is entitled to : he is your 
protector, your deliverer ; it is Belisarius whom I re- 
commend to your diligence; and then he opened 
to us the whole story of your sufferings. At the 
sound of a name so beloved and honoured, imagine to 



33 

yourself the agitation of our hearts. My son watched 
all night long for his general, for he had the honour 
to fight under your banners, when you expelled the 
invaders of Thrace ; and my daughters, at the dawn 
of day, were at the threshold of the door, and there 
continued, straining their eyes with eager expec- 
tation. At length we have found you ; command as 
you please, every thing we have is yours ; the no- 
bleman who desires to see you, has more in his 
power to give ; but give what he may, he will not do 
it with a better heart than we offer our little all. 

While thus the father discoursed, the son, in a 
fixed attitude before the hero, viewed him with a 
pensive air, his hands clasped in each other; con- 
sternation, pity, and respect rising by turns, and dif- 
fusing themselves over his countenance. 

My good friend, says Belisarius to the old vil- 
lager, I thank you for these marks of your goodness. 
I have wherewithal to support me on my way to my 
last retreat : but pray inform me, is your happiness 
equal to your benevolence ? Your son, you say, car- 
ried arms under my conduct. I feel myself inter- 
ested about him ; is he prudent, careful, and indus- 
trious? Does he prove a good husband and a good 
father ? — He is, replied the old man, all my joy and 
comfort; he quitted the army upon the death of his 
elder brother ; but he quitted it seamed with honour- 
able scars ; he relieves me from labour, the prop of 
my old age ! He has for his wife the daughter of my 
friend, and Heaven has smiled upon their union. 
He is of a sanguine lively temper ; she is of a mild 
and amiable disposition. My daughter, who stands 



34 

there, is also happily settled. I gave her in marriage 
to a young man of good morals, and they live in 
mutual affection : every thing goes on to my heart's 
content, and they have raised grandchildren to me, 
in whom I fancy I am renewing my youth. In ihe 
hopes that they will cherish my memory, and bless 
me when I am gone, I draw towards my grave with 
less regret. — Alas ! my good friend, said Belisarius, 
you excite my envy ! I had two sons, my best, my 
darling hope ! I saw them both expire at my side ; 
an only daughter is all that is left me in my age, 
and she, alas ! has too much sensibility for my con- 
dition and her own. But thanks be to Heaven, my 
two boys died lighting for their country ! At these 
words, the young man, who had been earnestly lis- 
tening to all that had passed, felt his heart touched 
to the very quick. The supper, consisting of plain 
country fare, was served up ; but Belisarius, by his 
lively representations of the happiness that dwells 
with obscurity, gave it the value of the most sump- 
tuous repast. Calm and retired tranquillity, says 
he, is the happiest state of man ; and yet, so little 
are the solid blessings of life understood, it is a state 
which is never envied. 

The young man of the house continued silent dur- 
ing the whole time of supper, with his eyes fixed on 
Belisarius ; he was lost in contemplation : his inward 
workings grew stronger as he gazed; his countenance 
every moment settled into a deeper gloom, looked 
more intense with reflection, and fiercer with the va- 
rious meanings that succeeded each other. Here is 
my son, said the good old landlord, recalling to his 



35 
imagination all your battles: he peruses you with an 
ardent eye. — He finds it difficult, replied Belisarius, 
to recollect his general. — The enemies of my general, 
said the young man, have defaced him enough to 
make it difficult to know him ; but he is too near 
the hearts of his soldiers to be ever unknown to 
them. 

When Belisarius took leave of this worthy family, 
I should be glad, says this young man, if my general 
will permit me to attend him a little part of his way. 
Being together on the road, I could wish, said he 
again, that you would order your guide to walk on 
before us ; for I have something for your private ear. 
The condition, Sir, to which they have reduced you, 
fills me with indignation. They have left you a ter- 
rible example of ingratitude, and the basest perfidy ; 
it makes me even look with horror on my country ; 
and as I formerly dared boldly in her service, so I 
now blush for every drop of blood I spilt in her cause. 
The place of my nativity is grown detestable to me, 
and I look with pity on the children whom* I have 
brought into this bad world. — Hold ! hold, young 
man ! says Belisarius ; where is the country in which 
honest men do not fall the victims of malignity and 
fraud? — But this, returned the young soldier, this is 
without a precedent. There is a peculiarity in your 
fate that exceeds all imagination. Who was the au- 
thor of it ? I have a wife and children ; them I will 
recommend to their grandfather and the Supreme 
Being, and nothing shall retard me from setting out 
directly to tear out the villain's heart, who barba- 
rously Alas! thou generous youth, said Beli- 



36 

sarius, clasping him in his arms, this excess of pity 
kindles to enthusiasm. Can I consent that a brave 
young man shall be the perpetrator of an insidious 
deed? that a soldier shall become an assassin? that 
a virtuous son, a tender husband, and an affectionate 
father, shall be the slave of guilt and infamy! It were 
to make me deserve all that malice has inflicted on 
me. Reflect a little ; you have relinquished the 
just defence of your country to solace your aged 
father, and rear up your tender infants; and will you 
now, for a superannuated wretch like me, with an 
extravagant zeal, desert that very father and your 
helpless babes ? Tell me, should you drench your 
hands in the blood of my enemies, will that recall my 
youthful vigour? Will it restore my lost organs to 
me ? When you have made yourself criminal, shall 
J be the less miserable? — No, replied the young 
man, but the bloody catastrophe of a villain will 
strike every guilty mind with horror : to make him 
a terrible example to the world, I will seize the mon- 
ster at the foot of the throne, or even of the altar, 
and glutting my poniard in his heart, will thunder 
in his ear, < Belisarius strikes the blow.' — And by 
what right, says Belisarius, in a decisive tone, do you 
mean to execute my revenge? Have I transferred a 
right to you, which I do not possess myself? or do 
you mean to assume that right in defiance of every 
law ? — Let law be truly administered, said the young 
man, and the subject will depend upon the justice 
of his country; but since it is perverted, since it 
gives no protection to innocence and virtue, but con- 
nives at vice ; and acts in collusion with the guilty, 



37 

it is time to abjure civil society, and resort to the 
primitive laws of natural justice. — My worthy good 
friend, replied Belisarius, that is the reasoning of 
ruffians, of every lawless banditti ! To see the laws 
warped to evil purposes, is indeed grievous to a just 
and honest mind ; but the case would be still more 
grievous, if they were to suffer open violation. En- 
feebled laws are most certainly an evil, but a transi- 
tory evil ; their total overthrow would be a lasting 
calamity. You' would strike guilt with terror, and 
yet you are going to encourage it by your example. 
My calamities, thou worthy youth, have inspired you 
with noble sentiments ; would you debase those sen- 
timents by an atrocious deed ? Shall the tender sen- 
sations of the heart be turned to horror ? I conjure 
you, in the name of that which you love, dishonour 
it not by fatal rashness. Let it never be said that 
virtue has guided the hand of an assassin. 

If their cruelty, said the young soldier, had spent 
its rage on me, I could perhaps arm myself with 
fortitude to bear the worst ; but when a man re- 
nowned, when Belisarius — no, I will never forgive 
it.— But I forgive it, replied Belisarius ; nothing but 
my interest in this business can provoke your fury ; 
and, if I renounce my own resentments, will you go 
farther than I am willing to do? Let me tell you, 
that, if I were inclined to expiate my wrongs by 
the blood of my enemies, whole nations are ready to 
arm themselves in my cause ; but I am resigned to 
my fate ; imitate my example, allow me to be a 
judge of what is right and honourable ; and, if you 
find within your breast a spirit to encounter death, 



38 

reserve that spirit for the glorious occasion of serving 
your country and your prince. 

The ardour of the young soldier subsided at these 
words into wonder and admiration. Forgive me, 
general, said he, forgive the vehemence which I now 
blush to own : the outrage of your fortune drove me 
to excess ; while you condemn my zeal, excuse it 
also. — I do more, said Belisarius, I esteem it ; it is 
the emotion, the transport of a generous mind : but 
let me now direct it. Your family will have need 
of you : live for them ; and let your children imbibe 
from you an aversion to the enemies of Belisarius. — 
Name them, said the young soldier, with impatience, 
and I promise you my children shall grow T up from 
the cradle in mortal hatred of them.— My enemies, 
replied Belisarius, are the Scythians, the Huns, the 
Bulgarians, the Sclavonians, the Persians, and all the 
enemies of my country. — Thou miracle of virtue ! 
said the young villager, prostrating himself at the 
feet of the hero. Belisarius embraced him, and tak- 
ing his leave, There are, said he, in this mixed state, 
inevitable evils ; all that a just man can do, is not 
to deserve the portion that may be his lot. If, here- 
after, the abuse of power, the perversion of laws, and 
the prosperity of bad men, should move your indig- 
nation, think of Belisarius. Farewell ! 



39 



CHAP. V. 

THE philosophic soul of Belisarius was now upon 
the point of encountering a trial still more severe 
than any he had yet met with : but it will in this 
place be proper to relate what happened when the 
hero was first seized, and hurried away to prison. 

On the night when he was loaded with fetters, 
and like a state criminal thrown into jail, amaze- 
ment, grief, and consternation, rilled his palace. 
The alarm which seized his wife Antonina, and Eu- 
doxa his only daughter, gave a picture of despair 
and agony in their most striking colours. At length 
Antonina, recovering from her fright, and calling to 
mind the favours which the empress had lavished on 
her, began to flatter herself that her apprehensions 
were groundless; she condemned, with self-reproach, 
the weakness she had betrayed. Admitted to an 
intimacy and dearness with Theodora, the compa- 
nion and sharer of all her social pleasures, she de- 
pended upon support from that quarter, or at least 
she believed that Theodora was her friend. In this 
persuasion she attended the levee of the empress, 
and falling on her knees in the face of the whole 
court ; Madam, said she, if to have defended and 
saved the empire on various occasions has been the 
distinguished lot of Belisarius ; that the guilt now 
imputed to him may be examined in open day-light, 
and that his accusers may confront him at the tri- 



40 
bunal of the emperor, is now the recom pence he 
asks for all his generous labours : a free trial, and 
the opportunity of confounding his enemies, is the 
only favour he can with honour accept. Theodora 
made her a sign to rise, and with a look of frigid 
indifference answered, If Belisarius is innocent, he 
has nothing to fear ; if the charge be true, he is no 
stranger to the clemency of his master, and he knows 
the soft accesses to his heart. You may withdraw, 
Madam, in full confidence that I regard you ; I shall 
not easily forget that I have distinguished you by 
my favours. This cold reception, and the abrupt 
manner of the conclusion, quite overpowered Anto- 
nina : she retired pale and trembling, and of all the 
beholders not one dared to lift an eye towards her. 
Barsames, whom s.he met, would have passed her by 
unnoticed, if. -she had not addressed herself to him : 
Barsames was the minister of the treasury, and the 
favourite of Theodora. She entreated him to inform 
her what was the crime laid to the charge of Beli- 
sarius. I inform you, Madam ! says Barsames ; I 
am totally in the dark ; a stranger to this affair ; I 
have nothing in my power ; I know nothing, nor do 
I interfere in any thing but the duty of my depart- 
ment ; if every body followed the same rule, the 
peace of the world would be less disturbed. 

Ah! says Antonina, the'plot, I see, is deeply laid, 
and Belisarius is undone. A little farther on she met 
a man who owed his all to her, and who, on the pre- 
ceding day, was entirely devoted to her service. 
She made an attempt to expostulate and' canvass 
the affair with him. But, without deigning to hear 



41 
her, T know your misfortunes, said he, ant! I am 
sorely mortified ; but I must beg your pardon, I 
have a business to solicit, and there is not a moment 
to be lost : I must leave you, Madam ; but be as- 
sured, that nobody is more zealously attached to you. 
Antonina went in quest of her daughter, and. in an 
hour's time she received directions to depart the 
city. The old castle already mentioned was assigned 
the place of her exile. 

The very sight of this castle, solitary and in ruin, 
filled the heart of Antonina with consternation; here 
she considered herself as buried, and a fit of illness 
seized her soon after her arrival. The tender Eu- 
doxa, distracted by the idea of a father impeached, 
loaded with irons, and given up a prey to his ene- 
mies ; distracted farther at the sight of a mother 
ready to break her heart with anguish; underwent the 
severest agonies of mind. All her days, her best, her 
youthful days, were consumed in offices of tender- 
ness to her afflicted mother ; each night she was 
bathed in tears, and, in that suspense of pain when 
weary nature sinks down to rest, her slumbers were 
ever troubled with the most horrid dreams. The 
image of her father plunged into a dungeon's gloom, 
and bending under the weight of galling chains, w T as 
ever present to her; and her apprehensions for her 
mother increased the terrors of the visionary scene. 

Antonina had been conversant in courts, and the 
thorough knowledge she had of them for ever painted 
to her fancy the rage of persecution let loose against 
her husband. What a triumph, said she, for those 
malignant spirits, who for a series of years have 

D 



■ 42 
thought themselves depressed by the virtues of a great 
and virtuous man ! How will they now exult in his 
downfal ! I see before me the ghastly smile of ma- 
lice, the mysterious air of calumny, that affects to 
conceal what it knows, and would appear tender of 
the man whom it is ready to stab. Detested flat- 
terers ! ye fawning sycophants ! I see ye all, and I hear 
your cruel insults in our misfortunes. Oh, my daugh- 
ter ! in your distress you may at least enjoy the con- 
solation, that you have nothing to reproach your- 
self; as to me, I have more reason to blush for my 
former felicities than my present calamities. The 
sage advice, and all the prudent lessons your father 
used to give me, were little heeded by me ; they 
were too importunate : in vain he counselled me to 
shun the baits of pleasure and of courts, to think 
that my truest dignity consisted in simplicity of 
manners, that the sincerest happiness was to be found 
in domestic enjoyment, and that it would be the tri- 
umph of my sex to bid adieu to vanities that would 
vanish like a dream, or end in shame. His remon- 
strances appeared to me to be the overflowings of 
spleen, and I complained of his sullen humour to his 
yerv enemies. What giddy inattention was mine ! 
and now, what -a sad reverse ! The bursting of the 
storm awakened me to reflection, and I never saw 
the abyss till I was tumbling into it. If you knew, 
my child, the cold averted air with which the em- 
press dismissed me ! even she to whom my soul was 
enslaved I whose every whim was the rule of my ac- 
tions, the inclination of my heart ! Oh ! that court, 
which on the eve of our misfortunes smiled with a 



43 
general complacence on me! the false insidious train ! 
not one of them, when they saw me leaving it like 
an outcast, with eyes dejected and swoln with tears, 
not one of them would acknowledge me ! In courts, 
my child, misfortune has the qualities of a plague, 
and makes you shunned by all. 

Such were the reflections of this unfortunate wo- 
man, whose eyes were now opened to the fallacies of 
-courts, though the affections of her heart were not 
yet alienated from them. She despised her former 
vanities, and yet loved them still. 

An entire year passed away, without any tidings 
of Belisarius ; a conspiracy had been detected, the 
hero was charged with being the author of it, and 
the voice of his enemies, which was called the pub- 
lic voice, pronounced him guilty of the treason. The 
principal conspirators had suffered death in deter- 
mined silence, without the smallest intimation of 
their leader; upon this was founded presumptive 
proof against Belisarivs, and for want of positive evi- 
dence, he was left to languish in a dungeon, in hopes 
that his death would supersede the necessity of clear 
conviction. In the mean time, the old disbanded 
soldiery, who now were mingled with the people, 
clamoured for the enlargement of their general, and 
were ready to vouch for his innocence : a popular 
insurrection followed, universally menacing to force 
the prison doors, unless he was immediately set at 
liberty. This tumult enraged the emperor. Theo- 
dora, perceiving it, managed artfully to seize the 
moment of ill-humour and passion, knowing that then 
only he was capable of injustice. Well, said she, 



44 

let him be given up to the populace after he is ren 
dered unable to command them. The horrible ad- 
vice prevailed : it was the decisive judgment against 
Belisarius. 

When the people saw him come forth without an 
eye in his head, a general burst of rage and lamen- 
tation filled the city. Belisarius appeased the tu- 
mult. My friends and countrymen, said he, your 
emperor has been imposed upon ; every man is 
liable to error; it is our business to regret Justinian's 
error, and to serve him still ; my innocence is now 
the only good they have left me ; let me possess it 
still. The revolt which you threaten cannot restore 
what I have lost, but it may deprive me of the only 
consolation that remains in my breast. The swell- 
ing spirits of the populace subsided at these words 
into a perfect cairn : they offered him all they were 
worth. Belisarius thanked them. All I will ask, 
says he, is one of your boys, to guide my steps to the 
asylum where my family expects me. 

The adventure with the Bulgarians carried Beli- 
sarius out of his way, while Tiberius pressed forward 
to the retreat of the exiled family. The rattling of 
a carriage in the court-yard of the castle, gave a sud- 
den emotion of hope and joy to Antonina and her 
daughter Eudoxa : the latter ran forth in the strong- 
est agitations of mind ; but alas ! instead of her fa- 
ther, disappointed to see a youthful stranger, she 
returned disconsolate to her mother, and with a sigh 
pronounced, — It is not he ! 

Anselmo, a faithful old servant of the family, ap- 
pearing in the court-yard, Pray, honest friend, said 



45 

Tiberius, is not this the retreat of Belisarius ? — His 
wife and daughter expect him here, said the faithful 
Anselmo, but their hopes have hitherto proved abor- 
tive; would to heaven I could suffer for him, so he 
were at liberty! — He is at liberty, replied Tiberius ; 
he is on his journey hither ; you will see him soon ; 
he ought to have been arrived before now. — Oh ! 
walk in, walk in, and communicate the news to his 
family : I will shew you the way. Madam, ex- 
claimed Anselmo, running eagerly towards Antonina, 
I have news for you, Madam : rejoice and be of good 
heart, my master lives ; he is free ; they have re- 
stored him to you; a generous young man brings the 
happy tidings : he thought to have found him here. 
At these words, Antonina summoned up ail her spi- 
rits : Where is the generous stranger, the virtuous 
youth, who interests himself in our afflictions? Shew 
him in ; let me see him. Antonina uttered these 
words with a quick vehemence of joy. Our miseries 
are ended now, exclaimed Eudoxa, throwing herself 
upon her mother's bed, and folding her in her arms ; 
my father lives, he is at liberty, and we shall see 
him once more. Let us, my clearest mother, forget 
our woes ; Heaven has not deserted us; we all shall 
meet again. 

And do you then recal me back to life? said An- 
tonina to Tiberius : has my husband triumphed over 
his enemies at last? Tiberius, inwardly afflicted that 
he had only a mockery of joy to offer them, calmly 
answered, That Belisarius was indeed alive ; that he 
had seen him, had conversed with him, and that, 
imagining he had before now reached his home, hs 



45 

came to tender him the little offices of friendship and 
good neighbourhood. 

Eudoxa, whose eyes were ri vetted to Tiberius, 
plainly saw the symptoms of infelt grief through the 
struggles of the youth to suppress them. You bring 
with you, said she, the words of joy and comfort to 
the afflicted, and yet, amidst the gladsome tidings, I 
mark an air of dejection that speaks some concealed 
affliction ! Does our misery depress you then ? Give 
me back my father ; let him return, and bring health 
with him to my unhappy mother; then you shall see 
whether riches are necessary to make us happy. 
j In tender and pathetic scenes like these, the force 
of nature is so insinuating, that Eudoxa had no need 
of other charms than the sentiments she uttered, to 
melt and engage the heart of Tiberius. To the 
grace of her person he was inattentive ; he only saw 
an affectionate and virtuous daughter,, whom a be- 
coming firmness of mind, pious resignation, and duty 
to a father, rendered superior to calamity. Imagine 
not, said he, that the sentiments of humanity which 
I have ventured to express, have any tincture of pride 
or insulting pity. Whatever be the condition to 
which Belisarius and his family are reduced, their 
misfortunes will ever be illustrious, and the object of 
envy stiM. — Why do you talk of misfortune? replied 
the mother^ if they have restored my husband to his 
liberty, they are convinced of his innocence ; he 
must therefore be established in his former possess 
sions. 

Madam, said Tiberius, it would be to keep you in 
a cruel suspense, merely to wound you deeper at 



47 
last, if I were to cherish any soothing hopes in re*' 
spect to his condition. To his popularity alone he 
is indebted for his freedom ; the court has yielded 
at last to the dread of an insurrection ; but, in com- 
plying with the demands of the people, they have 
sent him forth as wretched as they could make him. 

No matter, says Eudoxa, with her amiable sen- 
sibility of heart; if they do but leave us a little land 
to cultivate, we shall not be less happy than the 
honest country-folks whom I see abroad in the fields. 
-^-Gracious Heaven, exclaimed Tiberius, the daugh- 
ter of Belisarius humbled to this low situation ! — This 
low situation! replied Eudoxa; it was not unworthy 
of the heroes of Rome, when Rome was free and vir- 
tuous. Belisarius will not blush to be another Re- 
gulus ; my mother and I have learned in exile do- 
mestic cares and the arts of economy: my honoured 
father shall wear a coat spun by his daughter's hand. 

Tears gushed down the cheek of Tiberius, as he 
marked the pure heartfelt joy that warmed and ani- 
mated the whole frame of the lovely Eudoxa. Alas ! 
said he within himself, what a piteous stroke will pre- 
sently awaken her from this illusion ! With eyes bent 
downward to the ground, he stood before her, im- 
moveable in sorrow and silence. 



CHAP. VI. 

BELISAB.IUS was now entering the court-yard of 
the castle. Honest Anselmo saw him : advancing 
nearer, he recollected his master, and transported 
with joy, pressed eagerly forward to shew him in. But 
soon perceiving that he was blind, Oh, Heaven, said 
Anselmo, Oh, my master ! have I lived to see this I 
These words, broken and intermixed with frequent 
sobbings, gave Belisarios to understand that it was- 
his old faithful servant Anselmo. The poor fellow 
prostrated himself at the hero's feet, and embraced 
his knees. Belisarius raised him from the ground, 
and, having assuaged his grief by exhortations, bid 
him lead the way to his wife and daughter. 

At the sight, Eudoxa gave a scream, and swooned 
away. Antonina, who was ill of a slow consuming 
fever, was seized with the most frantic violence : with 
all the force of sudden fury she started from her bed, 
and breaking from the hold of Tiberius and the 
woman that nursed her, made an eifort to dash her- 
self against the floor. Eudoxa returning to her 
senses, and animated by the shrieks of her mother, 
flew to her assistance, and catching her in her arms, 
implored her to forbear out of compassion to her 
daughter. Oh, let me, let me die, replied the dis- 
tracted mother; if I must live, I will live to revenge 
his wrongs, and to tear piecemeal the hearts of his 
barbarous enemies. The monsters of iniquity ! is 



4£ 

that his recompence? But for him, they would all long 
ago have been buried in the ruins of their palaces : 
he has prolonged their tyranny, that is his crime! for 
that he suffers ; for that he has made atonement to 
the people. Barbarity unheard of! detested trea- 
chery ! The pillar of the state I their deliverer! Exe- 
crable court ! a set of blood-hounds met in council ! 
Just Heaven! are these your ways ? Behold ! inno- 
cence is oppressed, and you look tamely on ! Behold ! 
the factors of destruction triumph in their guilt ! 

Amidst this agony of grief, she scattered her hair 
about the room in fragments, and with her own hands 
defaced her features : now with open arms she rushed 
upon her lord, and clasping him to her heart, 
poured forth her tears, as if she would drown him 
with her sorrows; then abruptly turning to her 
daughter, Die, thou wretch ! she said ; escape from 
a bad world ! here is nought but misery for virtue, 
and triumph for vice and infamy. 

To this violence a mortal languor succeeded. The 
storm of passions gave a fit of momentary strength, 
the more effectually to destroy. In a few hours after 
she breathed her last. 

And now, Tiberius, what a scene had you before 
your eyes ! A blind old man, his wife lying dead ; 
a daughter in the last extremity of anguish ; tears, 
shrieks, and lamentations all around ! This was the 
situation, the sad catastrophe in which fortune ex- 
hibited a family, which for thirty years had flou- 
rished in every splendor and dignity of life. The 
words of a renowned philosopher here occurred to 
Tiberius ; Behold, says he, a spectacle which Hea~ 

D 2 



50 
ven surveys with pleasure ; a great man wrestling 
with adversity, and by his courage invincible to the 
last! 

Belisarius did not endeavour to control either his 
own grief or that of his daughter ; he permitted a 
free vent to both: but as soon as he had paid to na- 
ture the tribute of a feeling heart, he reassumed his 
strength, and emerged from his afflictions with true 
fortitude of mind. 

Though the anguish of Eudoxa was not abated, 
yet, lest she should renew her father's troubles, she 
endeavoured to suppress her sorrows ; but still the 
old general, as he embraced her, found himself moist- 
ened with her tears. You afflict yourself, my child, 
you afflict yourself on account of accidents which, 
instead of depressing us, ought to invigorate our 
souls, and raise us above misfortune and disgrace. 
Your mother, after having atoned for the errors of 
her former life, is safe in eternal peace. She now 
looks down with pity upon us, and commiserates the 
lot that detains us in this bad world. That cold, 
inanimated corpse, which lies there devoid of motion, 
is an emblem of the tranquillity her soul enjoys. 
Thus then you behold how vain and transitory are 
all the calamities of life ; a breath of wind comes, 
and all is vanished. The empire, and the splendor 
of its court, have faded away from the eyes of your 
mother ; and now in the bosom of her God, she be- 
holds this world as a little speck in the immensity of 
space. These are reflections founded on wisdom : 
these are reflections that administer to the virtuous 
mind all its consolation, and its best support in the 



51 

hour of adversity. — Oh ! give me that support, assist 
my feeble sex, encompassed thus with wretchedness 
and misery. I could have borne up against any mis- 
fortune that could befal me ; but to behold a mother 
broken-hearted, a tender parent, whom my heart 
adored, expiring within my arms ! and thus to see 
you too, thou best of fathers, in this deplorable con- 
dition, to which your enemies have reduced you !— - 
Alas ! my daughter, replied Belisarius, in despoiling 
me of my eyes, they did no more than the infir- 
mities of age or death would shortly have done : and 
as to what respects my fortune, you little know the 
use of affluence, if you do not know how to disregard 
it. — Oh! witness for me Heaven, said Eudoxa, it is 
not the loss of fortune that can give me a moment's 
pain. — Then let nothing distress your spirit, replied 
the venerable father ; and with his hand he wiped 
the falling tear from her cheek. 

Belisarius being informed that a young stranger 
desired to speak with him, gave him admittance, 
and asked the intention of his visit. It is not now a 
time, answered Tiberius, to offer consolation to you : 
thou illustrious unfortunate, I respect your sorrows ; 
I take a share in your afflictions, and it is my earnest 
prayer to Heaven that I may hereafter be enabled 
to assuage them : till then, all I can do is to mix my 
tears with yours. 

It was now time to perform the funeral obsequies. 
Belisarius, supported and guided by his daughter, 
attended the remains of his wife to their last depo- 
sitory. His grief upon the occasion was that of a 
philosopher ; it was deep, but silent ; inwardly felt, 



52 
but outwardly composed : his face was clouded with 
melancholy, but a grave and sentimental melan- 
choly. With a mien erect, and a steady counte- 
nance, he did not so much seem to brave his fortune, 
as to resign himself to its stroke with a dignity of 
sorrow. 

Tiberius assisted at the mournful ceremony : he 
beheld the fond regret of Eudoxa, and he returned 
deeply affected by the last duties which she paid to 
the memory of her mother. 

Belisarius addressed himself to him in these words: 
I perceive, generous youth, that it is to your huma- 
nity I am indebted for recommendations on my road 
hither. Instruct me who you are, and to what mo- 
tive I am to attribute your good offices. — My name 
is Tiberius, replied the youth ; I carried arms under 
Narses in Italy, and I have since served in the wars 
of Colchis. I was one of the hunting party to whom 
you applied for shelter, and whose indiscretion you 
so properly checked ; I have ever since severely cen- 
sured myself for not making my apology, and re- 
questing a farther favour of you. I am placed in a 
state of affluence : that may be a misfortune ; but if 
you will concur with me, good may be deduced from 
evil. Near this place I have a country-seat, and it 
is the height of my ambition to consecrate it to the 
use of an exiled hero. It will be presuming upon a 
slender title, to tell you of the respect and venera- 
tion I entertain for your character : he who loves his 
country, must by a natural consequence feel the dis- 
grace of Belisarius, and wish to soften his calamities ; 
but perhaps I can urge a claim that will touch you 



53 

nearer, and in some degree solicit for me. You will 
not wholly despise the ambition of a young man who 
pants to be admitted to the intimacy of an illustrious 
hero, that in his converse he may drink, as it were, 
at the fountain head of wisdom, of honour, and of 
virtue. 

You pay a compliment to my old age, replied 
Belisarius ; but, however, the interest you seem to 
take in my misfortunes bespeak a well-turned spirit, 
and an elegance of mind. At present you must ex- 
cuse me ; retirement and self-converse are what I 
must now have recourse to : the agitation of my spi- 
rits must be composed by silent meditation. Here- 
after I shall so far accept your proposal, as to wish 
to live in good neighbourhood with you, and to 
maintain a friendly intercourse. I have a regard for 
youth: in that happy season of life, the soul, as yet 
unhackneyed in the ways of men, is susceptible of 
every fine impression ; the sublime and the beau- 
tiful of virtue inflame it with a laudable enthusiasm ; 
and worldly passions have not yet entangled it in their 
snares. Your visits will ever be acceptable ; call 
upon me often ; I shall be glad to converse v;ith you. 

If I am worthy of that honourable commerce, re- 
plied Tiberius, why may I not possess you wholly ? 
My ancestors will applaud the use I make of the 
patrimony they transmitted to me, when it is ren- 
dered sacred by the retreat of Belisarius. Honour, 
respect, and reverence, will then be yours; and my 
whole household train will learn to emulate my ex- 
ample, in treating you with every mark of venera- 
tion. 



54 
I read, young man, the characters of virtue in all 
your words, returned Belisarius ; but let us do no- 
thing rashly. Give me to understand, for it is now 
ten years since I have been sequestered from the 
world, what is your father's station ; and what are 
his designs in regard to your future settlement in 
life ? — We are descended, replied Tiberius, from 
one of those families which Constantine transplanted 
from Rome, and honoured with his highest favours. 
In the reign of the emperor Justinian, my father 
acquired no small share of military glory ; he was 
esteemed and cherished by his sovereign. In the 
succeeding reign, undue preferences were given to 
others ; at least he thought so, and he retired in dis- 
content. Of that discontent he has since repented, 
and now for his son he forms schemes of ambition, 
which he neglected for himself. — You have opened 
enough to me, said Belisarius, and I will not be an 
obstacle to your advancement. You have convinced 
me that the dispositions of your heart are good : the 
pleasure arising from a generous way of thinking 
seems at once to be your motive and your recom- 
pence : and indeed that pleasure is the sweetest the 
mind can feel. But I foresee a danger of which you 
are not aware : by visiting me, you will involve your- 
self in the ruin of a man proscribed. For let me 
tell you, my worthy young friend, that a court, whe- 
ther right or wrong in its measures, never properly 
reviews its own deeds; it never reforms its conduct. 
Does it punish a real criminal? He will soon be for- 
gotten : But has it injured the man of blameless in- 
tegrity ? He will be persecuted with unrelenting ha- 




55 

tred ; for the very mention of his name is a satire on 
the times ; and his existence is, to the conscience of 
his enemies, an unceasing remembrancer of guilt. 

I take upon me all the risk, says Tiberius ; I will 
be responsible for my conduct. The emperor may 
have erred, but he is ever open to conviction. 

If you mean that he will be open to conviction ill 
regard to me, says Belisarius, you must not lose a 
thought that way. The measure of my woes is full ; 
the mischief is done; and may the emperor, for the 
peace of his future days, forget it all. 

Since you have gone so far, replied Tiberius, let me 
insist upon a farther act of generosity, to crown the 
whole. Preserve Justinian from the eternal reproach 
of letting you languish away the remainder of your 
days in misery. The humiliating condition in which 
1 find you is shocking to humanity, a dishonour to 
the crown, the horror of every honest mind, and the 
utter discouragement of all virtue like your own. 

The virtue, replied Belisarius, that will be dis- 
honoured by my misfortunes, is not like my own. 
But to deal frankly, I think it possible, as you seem 
to do, that my wretched condition may awaken the 
mingled passions of pity and indignation. A poor 
blind old man can give no umbrage, and may excite 
compassion. For that reason, I am determined to 
live in obscurity. If I made myself known to your 
friends, it was in an unguarded moment, when I 
was provoked by the intemperance of the company 
beyond the bounds of patience. It shall be the last 
indiscretion of my life, and this asylum shall be my 
grave. Farewell ! The emperor may perhaps be ig- 



56 
norant that the Bulgarians have entered Thrace ; be 
sure to inform him of it. 

Tiberius withdrew, not a little disconcerted at the 
event of his negociation. The sum of all that passed 
he reported to Justinian. A body of troops was im- 
mediately put in motion ; and in a few clays the 
public tranquillity was confirmed, by the expulsion 
of the Bulgarians. Now then, said the emperor to 
Tiberius, we are at leisure to visit the unfortunate 
general. I will pass myself for your father, and be 
upon your guard that nothing fall from you to unde- 
ceive him. Justinian had a lodge about half way to 
the asylum of Belisarius. Thither he betook him- 
self, detached from his train of courtiers, and the 
next day proceeded on his visit to the unfortunate 
hero. 



CHAP. VII. 

AND is this the hero's residence ? Is this the ha- 
bitation of him who so often brought me victory and 
triumph ? These were the words of Justinian, as he 
passed under an old portico mouldering into ruin. 
As soon as they entered, Belisarius rose to receive 
them. At the sight of the venerable man, the em- 
peror felt a pang of remorse and shame for the con- 
dition to which he had reduced him. An exclama- 
tion of grief broke from him, and leaning on Tibe- 
rius, he covered his eyes with his hands, as if un- 
worthy to behold the light which the hero saw no 



57 
more* What mean those tones of grief? says Belf- 
sari us.-— I have brought my father to see you, re- 
plied Tiberius, and he is sensibly touched by your 
misfortunes. — Where is he? said the general, stretch- 
ing forth his hands. Let him come to my embrace ; 
for he has a virtuous son. Justinian was obliged to 
comply with the request, and as soon as he felt the 
old man pressing him to his bosom, his emotions 
were so strong and tender, that he was unable to 
suppress his tears and groans. Restrain this vio- 
lence of pity, said Belisarius ; perhaps I am not al- 
together so wretched as you imagine. Let us dis- 
course a little about what concerns yourself, and 
this young man, who will be a comfort to you in 
your old age. — Yes, replied the emperor, in short 
and interrupted accents, yes — if you will condescend 
—to let him attend your lectures upon human life. 
•—Alas ! was can I offer, said Belisarius, that a 
wise and good father has not already anticipated? 
—You may instruct him, said the emperor, in what 
I perhaps know little of, the ways of courts, where 
he must pass his days. For a long time I have had 
so little commerce with men, that the world is as 
new to me as it is to him. But you, who have seen 
things in all their various aspects, may render him 
inestimable service ; and therefore I entreat you to 
unbosom yourself to him. — If he wants to give sta- 
bility to fortune, said Belisarius, I am unfit to read 
a lesson on that head, as you perceive. Would he 
learn to be an honest man at the hazard of all that 
is dear to him ? There I can be of some use. He 
is born with bright advantages, and that is a pri- 



68 
mary requisite. — Very true, said Justinian, he is de- 
scended from a race of noble ancestors. — That was 
not my meaning; but however, that is an advantage, 
if not perverted to a wrong use. Have you ever, 
young man, continued Belisarius, reflected upon the 
true idea of nobility ? It is a letter of credit given 
you by your country upon the security of your an- 
cestors, in the confidence, that, at a proper period 
of life, you will acquit yourself with honour to those 
who stand engaged for you. — But that credit, says 
the emperor, is often rashly given. — No matter, re- 
sumed Belisarius ; it is notwithstanding an institu- 
tion of useful policy. I imagine to myself, when a 
child of noble descent comes into the world, naked, 
weak, indigent, and helpless, like the offspring of a 
common peasant, I then imagine to myself his coun- 
try greeting him in this manner : " Welcome, my 
" child ! welcome to my arms ! You will hereafter 
tc be devoted to my service, intrepid, gallant, gene- 
" rous, and heroic as your famed forefathers. They 
" have transmitted to you their own brilliant ex- 
" ample ; I confer upon you their titles and their 
" honours, strong reasons both to rouse you to an 
" emulation of their virtue." This is the solemn 
scene I figure to myself: can you suggest any thing 
to your fancy more awful and sublime ?— But this 
is rather earning it too far, said Justinian. — Not a 
jot, replied Belisarius ; in the education of young 
minds, we must propose nobly to them. Let me 
add, there is frugality in dealing out pomp and ho- 
nours with a liberal hand. For suppose, upon a fair 
estimate, that these incentives produce only two o? 



59 
three great men in a century: and what then. 5 the 
state has nothing to complain of ; nay, it has ample 
compensation. You, young man, must be one of 
those who are to make this compensation to your 
country. — Here addressing himself to the emperor : 
You have allowed me, says he, to speak in the style 
of a father to him. — Do it, I conjure you, replied 
Justinian — Well then, my son, you must begin with 
a persuasion that nobility is a flame, which blazes 
intensely as long as it can communicate itself, but 
dies away as soon as it wants the proper materials 
to keep it alive and to support it. Be mindful, there- 
fore, young man, of your birth, for it imposes duties 
on you ; be mindful of your ancestors, for the ex- 
ample they have left you calls for your utmost ar- 
dour : remember, that the glory from them devolved 
upon you, is not an inheritance upon which you are 
lazily to subsist ; and, above all things, eradicate from 
your heart that supercilious pride, which looks big 
with the consciousness of a family name, ^and be- 
holds with the timorous eye of scorn and jealousy 
every preference obtained by honest merit. Ambi- 
tion has in its nature a spurious sort of nobility ; and 
therefore, by a kind of congenial influence, readily 
insinuates itself into the minds of persons well de- 
scended : but this passion, when carried to excess, 
is tinged with meanness, like any other motive of 
the heart. It swells with its own importance, be- 
cause it affects an air superior to all the duties of an 
honest man. Would you mark its operations, and 
know its character distinctly > Observe the bird ol* 



60 
prey, how it hovers over the field in a morning, and 
amidst a thousand animals marks out its destined 
prey ; even in the same manner ambition wakens 
to its early schemes, and plans the future destruc- 
tion of some splendid virtue. Alas ! my friend, an 
attachment to self, which is indeed a natural propen- 
sity of the heart, becomes enormous in a public cha- 
racter, whenever it fixes into a ruling passion. I 
have known men in my time, who would not hesi- 
tate to risk the safety of an whole army, or the well- 
being of the state, in order to gratify the selfish 
views of inordinate ambition. Stuog with envy at 
the success of others whom they had not merit to 
emulate, they are for ever alarmed with the appre- 
hension of losing the honour of some brilliant action ; 
and, were they not restrained by fear, they would 
make every enterprise miscarry, in which they have 
not the command ; even the public good is a cala- 
mity to them, unless ascribed to their own abilities. 
This set of men, whether in the cabinet or the field, 
is the most pernicious race. The man of true honour 
feels within himself the best intimations of his duty, 
and he looks for no external motive. His God and 
his conscience are the witnesses of his actions, and to 
them only he makes his appeal. A generous open- 
ness of heart, a calm deliberate courage, and a prompt 
zeal for the public service, are at once the consti- 
tuents of true greatness, and the best evidences of it. 
Pride, vanity, and envy, are the marks of a little 
and a narrow spirit. It is not enough that you 
make no pretension to the praise which you have 



61 

Hot merited ; you must even possess the noble self- 
denial, that can renounce the fame you have fairly 
earned. It must ever be remembered, that the so» 
vereigu is liable to error, for he is no more than man : 
and the mind ought to be fore-armed with the con- 
sideration, that your country, and the age you live 
in, may form wrong judgments of you, nay, that those 
judgments may not be reversed by the equity of after- 
times. In that case, you must consult ycur own 
heart, and in the manly self-conference enquire, 
" Were I reduced to the low condition of Belisarius, 
u would my innocence support me ? Would the 
" consciousness of having discharged my duty make 
" even affliction smile ?" If you feel within your- 
self any indecision respecting this matter, live your 
days in obscurity 7 : you have not the materials of a 
public character. 

Alas ! said Justinian, with a deep sigh, what you 
exact is above the powers of man ; and you are 
yourself a terrible example, — My example may at 
first appear terrible, replied Belisarius ; but upon 
a closer view that impression will wear away. Let 
us suppose, for instance, that the chance of war, a fit 
of illness, or a decay of nature, had deprived me of 
my sight; it would then have been among the com- 
mon accidents of life, with nothing remarkable or 
pathetic annexed to it, And are not the vices of 
human nature among the incidents of life? Are they 
not in the ordinary course of things, as much as the 
plague that laid waste the empire? Does it signify 
by what instrument we fall ? the wrath of a sove- 
reign, the arrow of an enemy, or a grain of sand ? 



62 

They can all dispatch us, and no matter which ". 
When we enter upon the stage of life, we must be 
prepared for the changes of the scene. You, Sir, 
who have sent forth your son to a course of military 
toil in the service of his country ; have you no pre- 
sentiment, no forecast to suggest to you the variety 
of perils he has to cope with ? Add to that account, 
the machinations of envy, the snares of treachery, 
the malice of dissimulation, and the clandestine stabs 
of calumny; and, if your son lives to my age with- 
out being ruined by them, you will allow that he 
had peculiar good fortune. Every thing in this life 
has its counterbalance. You see me now super- 
annuated, blind, and indigent, the tenant of an old 
castle in ruins ; but look back to a space of thirty 
years, adorned with happiness, and bright with vic- 
tory and triumphs ; review that period, and you will 
wish your son the lot of Belisarius. Come, my wor- 
thy neighbour ; we must summon up a little resolu- 
tion ; you feel the solicitude of a father ; but your 
son, I still flatter myself, does me the honour to envy 
me even now. — Most assuredly I do, exclaimed Ti- 
berius. — But he feels a virtuous envy, said the em- 
peror, interrupting him ; and the object of it is not 
the series of your victories, but that unshaken courage 
which stands at bay with fortune to the last. — 
Courage is indispensable, replied Belisarius, but not 
merely that courage which can look death in the 

1 Democrituru pediculi; Socratem aliud pediculorum 
genus, bipedes interemeriuit. Quorsum hoc ? Ingressus es 
vitain : navigasti : vectusesj discede. M. Antoninus de 

se ipso, lib. 3. 



63 

face : that is the bravery of every common soldier. 
The courage of a general is an elevation of mind 
superior to all human contingencies. Who think 
you, in my estimation,- is the man of true courage? 
He who, at the utmost hazard, flay at the expence 
of his glory, continues obstinate in the discharge of 
his duty. Such was Fabius, that Roman worthy, 
wise, temperate, and firm, who could hear the cen- 
sures of mankind for his delay, yet hold the even 
tenor of his conduct free from the irresolution of the 
vain, inconsistent Pompey, who chose to hazard the 
fate of Rome and the universe, rather than groan 
under the intolerable pleasantry of a joke. I will 
just mention a passage in my own life. In one of 
my first campaigns against the Persians, the rash 
advice of certain turbulent spirits in my camp pre- 
vailed upon me to give battle, much against my own 
inclination. I lost the day. For that misconduct 
I shall ever stand self-condemned. Who lets the ca- 
price of opinion be the rule of his actions, will waver 
in uncertainty, without precision or dependence on 
himself. Let me ask, what would be the conse- 
quence, if, before we decide with ourselves to be just 
and upright, we should resolve to wait for a dispas- 
sionate age of the world, and an infallible prince ? 
We must end therefore in this conclusion ; keep 
right onward with firmness and intrepidity. Per- 
haps, when you reach the goal, Ingratitude and Ca- 
lumny will be there untired ; but Glory will also be 
there ; and if not, Virtue may dispense with it : she 
will never fail you. Even in the vilest state of mi- 
sery and oppression, she will be a faithful follower ; 



64< 
and, oh! my good friend, if you but knew how much 
a single smile of Virtue outweighs all the fickle ca- 
resses of Fortune ! — 

Your every word penetrates my soul, said Justinian 
in a tender tone of voice, and much embarrassed. 
How inestimably happy is my son to imbibe these 
sentiments at this period of life ! It is in this school 
that sovereigns ought to study, — Let us say nothing 
of sovereigns, replied Belisarius ; they are more to 
be pitied than we are. — Yes, said Justinian, situated 
as they are, with not a friend, at least without any 
of ability and courage enough to guide their steps, 
their case is lamentable indeed. My son is destined 
by his birth to live in courts : it may one day be his 
lot, in the councils of h!s prince, or perhaps in a 
more intimate connection, to avail himself of these 
your lectures for the benefit of mankind. Do not 
disdain to open and enlarge his understanding ; 
proceed to fill his young conceptions with sublime 
ideas of the true art of governing ; instruct him, as 
you think the friend of a sovereign ought to be. 
Justinian is now near his grave ; but his more happy 
successor may have the pupil of Belisarius for his 
friend.-— Alas ! said the hero, would it were in my 
power once more, before I die, to be of service to 
my country ! But the observations my experience 
has made, will be thought the reveries of a visionary 
old man. And indeed, in theory, systems are easily 
settled ; difficulties rise and disappear. The pro- 
jector is master of his combinations, and he arranges 
them at his ease. He adapts every thing with faci- 
lity to all emergencies, and the wishes of mankind : 



he fancies himself free from the influence of passion, 
an unerring philosopher, exempt from frailties, al- 
ways enlightened, moderate, and wise. A sweet 
illusion this, and not likely to last long, but that 
the theorist soon extricates himself out of embarrass- 
ments, and has the reins of government in his own 
hands. — But this illusion has its use, said the young 
man ; for even the chimerical idea of the best pos- 
sible system may be the model of a good, though 
imperfect, institution. — I wish it may, replied BelU 
sarius ; but I am not sanguine enough to hope it. 
The very worst arrangements of civil policy, and 
the most defective forms of government, have their 
admirers and their zealots. — I will venture to pro- 
mise on my part, said Justinian, that your specula* 
tions will not be thrown away, if you will deign to 
communicate them to my son. — With all my heart, 
replied the hero; you deserve that I should be open 
and ingenuous with you. One condition I have to 
exact, and that is, entire secrecy during the present 
feign in regard to our confidential talk. — And why 
that caution ? said Justinian. — Because I am not 
willing, replied Belisarius, to grieve an aged em- 
peror's breast, and cloud the sunset of his days with 
a prospect of evils which he has not power to dispel. 
Such was the first interview between them. 

On his way back, What an indelible disgrace, said 
Justinian, not to have known and distinguished such 
a man ! It is thus, my best Tiberius, it is in this man^ 
ner we are deceived, and rendered tyrants against 
the inclination of our hearts. 

The emperor was haunted all night by the image 



66 
of Belisarius: The next day he saw hiln before his 
eyes in every apartment of the palace. In the even- 
ing, about the same hour, he set out to enjoy the 
melancholy pleasure of a second meeting. 



CHAP. VIII. 



BELISARIUS was walking a little way on the 

road with his guide. At sight of him, Justinian 
alighted from bis carriage, and familiarly began : 
You find us deep in meditation, representing to our- 
selves the injustice of the sentence which wicked men 
extorted from an aged emperor. My son and I were 
engaged in a serious train of reflections upon the 
wretched state of sovereigns, and the dangers that 
surround them. I could not help thinking it a won- 
derful event in the history of human affairs, that a 
whole people, consisting of free-born men, and equal 
all by nature, should with one joint assent resign 
their rights into the hands of a single person, a weak 
individual, a feeble mortal like themselves, subject 
to the same infirmities, open to imposition, liable to 
self-delusion, and prone to errors, which in a moment 
may prove destructive to millions ! — And do you 
imagine, says Belisarius, that in a senate, or an as- 
semblv of the people, there is more safety, greater 
wisdom, or a steadier administration of justice ? Was 
it under a monarchy that Camillus, Themistocles, 
and Aristides, were proscribed ? To multiply the 



m 

members of government is to multiply its vices, for 
every individual mingles his own. The most simple 
form of government is the most eligible ; and, whe- 
ther states were founded upon conquest or original 
compact, whether mankind agreed to transfer their 
natural rights to the civil magistrate, or were by 
superior force subdued into political society ; in 
either case it was reasonable, that the most renowned 
for wisdom or for valour should attract the popular 
regard, and gain the general suffrage in his favour. 
I am not therefore surprised that the magistrate or 
the hero should be selected for the government of 
the whole ; but that a single person could be found 
willing to accept so painful a pre-eminence, is matter 
of astonishment. — This part of the argument, said 
Tiberius, is not sufficiently clear to my apprehension. 
— To form a distinct idea, replied Belisarius, it will 
help you much, if you will figure to your fancy the 
first formation of a state, and place yourself alter- 
nately in the different characters of the people and 
the sovereign. 

Where is the risk, the people may be supposed 
to say, what hazard do we run in giving supremacy 
to a king > With the good of the whole we blend his 
happiness ; we make them but one thing ; the force 
of the community becomes the strength of the crown ; 
upon the general weal his glory is grafted ; and the 
regal character is at once derived from the people, 
and supported by them. The general love of his 
subjects will be his true self-love, and his best interest 
will be found in justice, moderation, and benefi- 
cence. This must have been the political creed of 



6S 

mankind. — But they did not take into their account, 
said Justinian, the passions and the complication of 
motives that encompass a prince. — Very true, replied 
Belisarius ; they only thought of an inseparable union 
of interests between the sovereign and his people. 
That there ever could be a separation of those in- 
terests, and that the two parts of the body-politic 
should live in a state of mutual hostility, did not 
enter into their idea. Usurpation appeared to them 
a kind of suicide, that could only proceed from a 
total privation of reason : and should the prince be 
seized with so extravagant a frenzy, they relied upon 
the wisdom of the legislature to control the passions 
of a man grown an enemy to himself. They fore- 
saw, indeed, that many might find their interest in 
mischief and evil deeds ; but they persuaded them- 
selves, that such a confederacy in vice would be a 
small minority, against which a great superiority of 
good and honest men, with the prince at their head, 
would always preponderate. And indeed, till fatal 
experience opened the eyes of men, who could fore- 
see that kings would ever sink to such a degree of 
infatuation, as to divorce themselves from their peo- 
ple, and combine with the avowed enemies of all 
the rights of man ? A conduct like this is such an 
outrage to nature and to reason, that it was necessary 
it should actually happen, before the possibility of 
it could be believed. It was not in the simplicity of 
ancient manners to expect so shocking a revolu- 
tion. 

To consider, on the other hand, the feelings of so- 
vereigns in that early period of mankind, he, o& 



69 
\Vhom the supreme authority devolved, must be 
deemed the party that had most reason to be alarm- 
ed : for if the father of a family, who has a charge of 
five or six children to educate, and to establish hi 
the world, feels an incessant anxiety that plants 
thorns upon his pillow, what must be the case with 
the chief of a family which is counted by mil- 
lions ? 

He must have reasoned with himself in this man- 
ner : The compact which I make with my people 
binds me to live for their good only : the repose of 
my life must be devoted to their happiness. I en- 
gage myself by a solemn oath to regard the good 
of the community in every legislative act, and to 
submit my own will to the spirit of the laws. In 
proportion to the power committed to me, my na- 
tural liberty is abridged. The more my subjects 
confide in me, the stronger are the obligations I am 
under. For the frailties of my nature, my errors, 
and my passions, I render myself accountable ; I 
give my people a kind of jurisdiction over me; and 
in short, by consenting to reign I abdicate myself. 
The private man is, as it were, annihilated, to make 
room for royalty to engross the soul. . Can there be 
a more generous sacrifice ? an engagement of so so- 
lemn a nature? And yet these were the sentiments 
of Antoninus and Marcus Aurelius: " I have nothing 
" properly my own," said one of them. " My very 
" palace is not mine," was the declaration of the 
other. The few of their stamp thought the same. 

Jn the appendages of sovereignty, vulgar error 
ma,rks only some external circumstances of parade, 



70 

which serve to awaken envy ; such as, palaces, the 
splendor of a court, the homage that is paid, toge- 
ther with the pomp and magnificence which policy* 
attached to the regal state, in order to give it sanc- 
tion and authority. And yet, amidst all this bril- 
liancy, the sovereign is no more than mere man, 
overwhelmed with splendid cares, distracted with 
anxieties, a self-consuming votarist for the public 
good, and a victim to his duty, if he be zealous to 
perform it, an object of scorn if he neglect it, and' 
of detestation should he betray it. Under perpetual 
restraint, and fluctuating for ever betwixt good and 
evil, he hnds himself environed with enemies to his 
quiet, with painful vigils, devouring cares, a tedious 
apathy, that makes him weary of himself, and ends 
in a distaste to every thing. Behold there the por- 
trait of a king ! It is true, invention has exhausted 
itself to make his enjoyments counterbalance his 
cares ; but his cares are numberless, and his plea- 
sures are confined within the scanty circle of his 
wants. The highest luxury is not ingenious enough 
to give him one new organ of sensation ; and, while 
pleasures solicit him on every side, nature, quite 
harassed down, forbids enjoyment, and the palled 
appetite refuses all. Thus every thing about him is 
superfluity ; his extensive palace is but a void im- 
mense, of which he occupies a little corner ; under 
crimson curtains and gilded ceilings he seeks in vain 
that sweet repose which dwells in the peasant's cot- 
tage ; and at his table, the pleasure of the monarch 
ends, when appetite craves no more. 

I perceive, said Tiberius, that every thing cannot 



7i 

be enjoved, where every thing abounds ; but is the 
pleasure of choosing nothing in the account? 

Alas ! young man, exclaimed Belisarius, my wor- 
thy young man ! you are not acquainted with -that 
incurable disease, satiety. It is the most fatal lan- 
guor of the mind. Are you acquainted with the 
cause of it ? The power of enjoying with facility 
makes us listless, and disgusted at every thing. Ei- 
ther our desires have not time to revive, or they 
revive only to lothe the affluence that invites too 
soon. Art has wearied itself in studying delicacies 
to provoke and quicken the languid appetite ; but 
the powers of perception are decayed, the inlets of 
pleasure are obstructed ; the incentives to action are 
extinguished in the soul, and delight itself has lost 
both its allurements and its gratifications. Woe to 
the man who can command every thing with a wish! 
for as, on the one hand, the predominant idea of a 
total privation saps all the vigour of the mind, by 
fixing a train of corroding reflections ; so, on the 
other, a constant habit of enjoyment gives insipidity 
to what were otherwise exquisite, and thus life loses 
its relish. 

You will grant me, however, interposed Tiberius, 
that there are refined and sensible delights, in their 
nature proper for the gratification of a monarch, 
which are always sure to give rational enjoyment, 
without the danger of disgusting by repetition. — As 
for instance ? says Belisarius. — The love of glory, 
for instance, replied the young man. — But what 
sort of glory? — Why, of all the various classes of 
glory renown in arms must hold the foremost place. 



72 
—Very well ; that is your position : and do yoti 
think the pleasure that springs from conquest has a 
sincere and lasting charm in it ? Alas ! when mil- 
lions are stretched in mangled heaps upon the held 
of battle, can the mind in that situation taste of joy ? 
I can make allowance for those who have met dan- 
ger in all its shapes; they may be permitted to con- 
gratulate themselves that they have escaped with 
their lives; but in the case of a king born with sensi- 
bility of heart, the day that spills a deluge of human 
blood, and bids the tears of natural affection flow in 
rivers round the land, that cannot be a day of true 
enjoyment. I have more than once traversed over 
a held of battle. I would have been glad to have 
seen a Nero in my place ; the tears of humanity 
must have burst from him. I know there are prince* 
who take the pleasure of a campaign, as they do 
that of hunting, and who send forth their people to 
the fray, as they let slip their dogs ; but the rage of 
conquest is like the unrelenting temper of avarice, 
which torments itself, and is to the last insatiable. 
A province has been invaded ; it has been subdued ; 
it lies contiguous to another not yet attempted ■ : 
desire begins to kindle ; invasion happens after in- 
vasion : ambition irritates itself to new projects; till 
at length comes a reverse of fortune, which exceeds, 
in the mortification it brings, all the pride and joy 
of former victories. But, to give things every flat- 
tering appearance, let us suppose a train of unin- 

6 si angulus iste 



Proximus accedat qui nunc denormat agellum ! 

Hor. 



73 

terrupted success : yet, even in that case, the con- 
queror pushes forward, like another Alexander, to 
the limits of the world, and then, like him, remea- 
sures back his course, fatigued with triumphs, a bur- 
den to himself and to mankind, at a loss what to 
do with the immense tracts which he has depopu- 
lated, and melancholy with the reflection that an 
acre of his conquests would suffice to maintain him, 
and a little pit-hole to hide his remains from the 
world. In my youth I saw the sepulchre of Cyrus: 
a stone bore this inscription : " I am Cyrus, he who 
" subdued the Persian empire. Friend, whoever 
" thou art, or wherever thy native country, envy 
" me not the scanty space that covers my clay-cold 
'' ashes 2 " Alas ! said I, turning aside from the 
mournful epitaph, is it worth while to be a con- 
queror ? 

Tiberius interrupted him with astonishment : Can 
these be the sentiments of Belisarius ? — Yes, young 
man, thus thinks Belisarius : he is able to decide 
upon this subject. Of all the plagues which the 
pride of man has engendered, the rage of conquest 
is the most destructive. — T must give up the point, 
says Tiberius ; but still there is a prerogative of en- 
joyment, a gratification worthy of kings, and that 
is the supreme delight of serving mankind, a pleasure 
springing from the happiness of millions. — Ay ! re- 
plied Belisarius, if a king could be sure of making a 
nation happy, his accession were an object of envy; 
ascending his throne, he would rise to the great pre- 

2 Vide Plutarch's Life of Alexander. 
£ 2 



74 
eminence of dispensing public good, and guiding 
the reins of government for the welfare of mankind. 
This would be a sacred privilege ! That a generous 
mind should sacrifice the repose of life to this great 
ambition, would not be matter of astonishment. But 
address yourself to the august old man who now 
reigns over you, and desire to be informed by him, 
whether to discharge the duties of his station is an 
easy task ? — That a prince has done his utmost, re- 
plied Justinian, to promote the welfare of his sub- 
jects, to make their burden light, and to deserve 
the love of his people, a nation may sometimes be 
willing to believe. 

They may believe it, said Belisarius ; and some 
princes, even during their lives, have obtained that 
glorious suffrage. It has been the recompence of 
their upright government ; their sweetest retribu- 
tion. But without some singular event to give sin- 
cerity to public testimonials, unless some great and 
trying conjuncture happen, when the sentiments of 
the people may be supposed to burst forth in the 
honest effusion of their hearts, what prince can flatter 
himself that the addresses he receives are not su- 
borned ? How can he persuade himself that he hears 
the real sense of the nation ? His courtiers vouch 
for it ; but who is responsible for them ? While 
the song of revelry echoes through the palace, how 
shall he be assured, that, in the remoter parts of his 
dominions, the dome of the viceroy is not filled with 
the complaints of injured men, and the cottage of 
the labourer with the groans of misery? The pub- 
lic festivals are nothing but scenes acted before him, 



and the applause he meets is too often preconcerted • 
He sees the vilest of mortals canonized for deities ; 
and though the vain tyrant, whose days are spent 
in one continued round of voluptuousness, may im- 
bibe the incense which adulation offers, yet the man 
of virtue, who made his reign a painful endeavour 
to do all the good that depended on him, closes an 
honourable life in anguish, and descends to the tomb 
of his ancestors, without ever being sure that he had 
one sincere friend. When I reflect that Justinian is 
in this situation, and that he is likely to carry with 
him to his grave a persuasion that Belisarius was a 
traitor, and never loved him, I own myself sorely 
grieved ; it is a stab to my very heart. 

No ! exclaimed the emperor with impetuosity, 
(and then recollecting himself suddenly) ; no, said 
he, in a more deliberate accent, a prince is not al- 
ways unhappy to such a degree, as not to know, that, 
in the course of his reign, he has been truly loved. 

Be it so, replied Belisarius ; he knows that he is 
loved ; and yet, even this sweet reflection is dashed 
with bitterness. Certain it is, the good of his people 
must be dear to him, in proportion as he thinks him- 
self dear to them ; and in consequence, whatever 
good he does, or whatever evil he wards off from 
them, the account appears to him, in the general 
mass of good and evil, so inadequate to his wishes, 
that at length, in the evening of a long and stormy 
life, he seriously puts the question, " What good 
have I done ?" Struggling with adversities, and yet 
unable to subdue them, what must be his regret, 
\v hen he sits down conscious of his feeble efforts, and 



76 
sees himself a slave to the emergencies of the day, 
obliged to govern by expedients only ? Marcus Au- 
relius is the prince upon record who best deserved 
to see the world happy under his administration 3 , 
and yet, what a reign was his ? a scene of wild com- 
motion, in which all the accumulated ills of life 
seemed to crowd themselves together 4 . One would 
have thought it an insurrection of all nature, a ge- 
neral conspiracy to baffle every effort of wisdom and 
of virtue. It is a melancholy task, that he who raised 
a temple to Beneficence, was doomed to see the black- 
est period of distress and misery. But not to go so 
far back for examples, was ever a reign more distin- 
guished for activity, for vigour, and apparent success, 
than this of Justinian r A series of war and victory 
in three quarters of the world for thirty years toge- 
ther ; the losses of a century repaired in one reign ; 
the people of the North and of the West extermi- 
nated beyond the Danube and the Alps ; tranquil- 
lity established through all the provinces of Asia : 
kings overthrown, and led in triumph; the desola- 
tion of a plague, the waste of invasions, and the ruin 
of earthquakes, effaced almost from the memory of 
man, by the restoring hand of unwearied virtue ; 
places of defence, and temples without number, the 
former built from the ground, and the latter deco- 
rated with every splendid ornament ! These were 

3 Iste virtutem omnium, coelestisque ingenii extitit, aerum- 
nisque public is quasi defensor objectus est. Aurel. Vict. 

4 Ut prope nihil, quo summis angoribus alteri mortales 
solent, dici seu cogitari queat, quod non, Ulo imperante, 
saevierit. Aurel. Vict. 



77 
the works of Justinian's reign ! imperial works ! how* 
glorious ! how magnificent ! And yet, what a falling 
off! Behold him now in the decline of old age ! 
what has he done ? That victorious arm was never 
able to fix the empire upon a durable foundation ; 
at this very instant it totters (o its ruin ; that is at 
last the close of all his labours, the fruit of so many 
triumphs. Let this, Tiberius, be a lesson to you ; 
let it instruct you to view with pity the splendid 
misery of kings, to rejudge their actions with lenity, 
and, in particular, to conceive no disaffection to a 
venerable sovereign, on account of the ills which he 
has let fall, or the good which he has omitted to do. 
You alarm me, said Tiberius, with these reflec- 
tions : my first advice to any friend of mine upon 
a throne, shall be to abdicate it. — To abdicate it 1 
replied Belisarius ; that you will not do : courage 
will never be the adviser of desertion. Were you 
ever induced, by peril and fatigue, to abandon the 
sword ? There is no difference, in this view of things, 
between a sword and sceptre. It is incumbent upon 
every man to crowd into his life all the duties he 
can. Endeavour not to conceal from your friend, 
that he must inevitably be a victim to those about 
him ; but make him sensible, at the same time, that 
there is a pleasure, as well as a pain, in being thus 
sacrificed ; and that, in order to insure his true re- 
compence, he must inflame his imagination with the 
enthusiasm of public virtue, and must thence deduce 
the sweet reward of all his generous labours 5 . — And 

5 Homo qui benefecit, ne plausum quaerat t sed ad aliud 
negotium transeat quemadmodum vitis, ut rursum suo tem- 
pore uvam producat. Marc Antonin. lib. iii. 



IS 

where is this reward to be met with? interposed Ti- 
berius. — It consists, returned Belisarius, in our own 
inward consciousness ; it is purely sentimental, and 
springs out of the reflection that we find within our 
breasts, the active principles of humanity, social af- 
fection, generous sympathy, those amiable qualities 
which constitute the dignity of our nature, and merit 
the approbation of earth and heaven. Can you 
imagine that a king has such contracted views, as 
to rise in a morning to balance the account of what 
he may merit in the course of the day? His lan- 
guage to himself, I take it, must be, Awake ! arise ! 
and with you let justice and benevolence open their 
eyes on the world. Divest yourself of little selfish 
passions, of your schemes of private gratification, 
and resign even the repose of your life. You do not 
live for yourself alone ; the soul of a whole people 
stirs within you ; your will is the will of millions, 
and, properly promulgated, receives the sanction of 
a law. Let the law then be the rule of your govern- 
ment; and remember, that on the happiness of num- 
bers your own interest is grafted 6 . You are moved, 
Tiberius ! your hand trembjes in mine ! let me bid 
you rest assured, that the very tears of virtue have 
inexpressible delight. Virtue, it is true, cannot as- 
certain a constant good, unmixed with evil ; but is 
there such a thing in human life? And if there is, 
for whom is it reserved ? For the inactive, the wick- 

6 Manfe, cum gravatim a somno surgis, in promptu tibi 
fit cogitare te ad hurnanum opus faciendum surgere. Non 
sentis quam multa possis praestare, de quibus nulla est ex- 
cusationatura? ad ea non aptas^ et tamen adhuc, prudens 
sciensqne, humi fixus haeres ! Marcus Anlonin % lib, v. 



79 
ed, and unworthy ? The mischief which a patriot 
prince cannot remove, draws tears from his huma- 
nity ; but they are not the bitter tears of envy, re- 
morse, and turpitude. They are the pleasing sor- 
rows of a Titus, who weeps that he has lost a day : 
they are pure as the source from which they spring. 
You may therefore aver to your friend, and pray 
aver it with energy, as if some god were breathing 
through you, that, armed with virtue, he will never 
know the pang of envying the fortunes of the vile and 
wicked. But this constancy of mind, this true sup- 
port of virtue, is not the spontaneous growth of the 
human breast; the spirit of a young prince must be 
attempered to it ; and how he is to be initiated, we 
will make the subject of to-morrow's interview. 

He moulds me to his will, said Tiberius to Jus- 
tinian ; his power over my soul is irresistible ; he 
sinks, inflames, and elevates at his own discretion. 
— He tears my very heart, replied the emperor; 
then fetched a deep sigh, and remained a consi- 
derable time in pensive silence. To dispel the 
gloom, his court tried all its gaieties, but every en- 
deavour was fruitless importunity. On the morrow, 
having signified his inclination to take a solitary 
walk, he struck into a neighbouring wood ; Tibe- 
rius was there in waiting, and together they went to 
their appointment. The young man did not fail to 
revive the topic which had been promised, and Be- 
lisarius proceeded in the following manner. 



80 



CHAP. IX. 

IT has been made a question, Whether it be pos- 
sible to love virtue for its own sake only ? So gene- 
rous a principle, it must be acknowledged, is the 
sublime instinct of certain chosen spirits. I call it 
an instinct: for whenever it is the work of reflection, 
it degenerates into interest : nor can this proposi- 
tion be understood to derogate from human nature. 
I will shew you, that virtue, like friendship, refines 
itself by degrees from the dross of interest, and takes 
a more exalted nature : the operations of one will 
illustrate the other. 

It is to views of convenience, of pleasure, and 
utility, that friendship owes its origin. The effect 
in the process is detached from the cause : the mo- 
tives subside, and the sentiment produced keeps pos- 
session of the heart : a secret charm insinuates it- 
self, and, by the force of habit, mingles with our 
very love of existence. In this state of the mind, 
uneasy sensations may take place instead of pro- 
mised joys ; but still, the heart which has tasted of 
friendship will, rather than renounce it, forego all 
the soothing comforts it expected to enjoy. Friend- 
ship is a sympathy which commences in gaiety and 
exultation, and gathers strength in the hour of afflic- 
tion. The same may be affirmed of virtue 1 . To 

1 Si quid in vita human& invenis potius justitid, veritate, 
teraperantia, ibrtitudine, ad ejus amplexum totis aninii vi- 
rions contendas, suadeo. Marcus AntoJiin. lib. iii, 



81 
engage your .affections, it must first attract, by an 
appearance of the agreeable or the useful ; for be- 
fore we are enamoured of her, we love ourselves ; 
and till we know the real sweets of virtue, we look 
for gratifications very different from what she affords. 
When Regulus, in the spring of life, beheld her for 
the first time, she struck him with the pomp of 
triumph, and the splendor of glory. Whether he 
abandoned her afterwards, when she had nothing to 
give but fetters, the torture, and the funeral pile, 
need not now be mentioned. 

You must therefore begin by sounding the tem- 
per of the prince, and discovering the objects that 
chiefly strike his fancy. To be free, powerful, rich, 
obeyed by his subjects, esteemed through life, and 
happy in the prospect of future fame, will perhaps 
be the prevailing desires. Inform him, therefore, 
that from virtue alone he can obtain what he pants, 
for, and you will not mislead him. 

There is a secret in the art of governing, too 
often concealed from the pride of kings, in which 
every well-disposed prince ought to be early in- 
structed, and that is contained in this sober truth ; 
there is no absolute power except that of the laws, 
and he who aims at despotism enslaves himself. 
For what is law but the will of the whole commu- 
nity 2 , expressed by one man, in the same manner 
as his power is the whole force of the state collected 
in himself? But when the will of one is erected in- 
opposition to the whole, the force of the body 

* Communis sponsio civitatis. Pand. lib. i. tit. 3. 



82 

politic will 'then be set against the prince, who re- 
sorts to the practice of dividing, weakening, and 
subverting, the strength of the kingdom ; or perhaps, 
at length he is in open arms against it. Instead of 
being the father of his people* he is now their ty- 
rant : he governs by intrigue, and strives, by little 
arts of policy, to delude, surprise, alarm, and terrify 
his subjects into a tame submission ; or else he 
resorts to his agents of destruction, who sell the 
blood of their countrymen, and march sword in hand 
through the realm, covering all with desolation, till 
murder has taken off every honest man who dared 
to resist the yoke, and vindicate the rights of nature. 
Hence the rage of civil commotions, in which a 
brother says to his brother, Die, or yield to the ty- 
rant, who has paid me for cutting your throat. 
Proud of an usurpation maintained by force of arms, 
or founded on superstition, the tyrant congratulates 
himself: but let his heart tremble within him, if he 
ever cease to pamper the pride, or control the li- 
centiousness of his detested party. While they 
serve him, they chain him to themselves by his 
fears : and for the obedience they pay their captive 
king, they demand in return impunity for their 
crimes. Being thus grown the oppressor of one part 
of his subjects, he is a slave to the other ; as mean 
and abject to the bad, as fierce and domineering to 
the good. Constrained to manage with his accom- 
plices, he is obliged to study how to gratify them, 
that the passions which listed on his side, may not 
revolt from him ; for he knows their fierce and dan- 
gerous quality, since they have already marked their 



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way with ruin, and broke asunder all the ties of 
nature and humanity. The tiger, trained to the 
chase, and educated by man to the skill of devour- 
ing, will fly at his master, if a share of the prey be 
withheld from him. The tyrant's compact with his 
iactors of mischief is precisely the same. 

The supreme power, therefore, as it approaches 
to tyranny, becomes feeble in proportion, and de- 
pends for support upon the men who have leagued 
themselves against the constitution. It must be ever 
attentive to the tools of a party, lest they should 
make a defection to the interests of their country. 
Every mark of compliance, respect, and the most 
servile toleration, must be paid to them, to the 
utter subversion of justice, and the neglect of all 
sound policy. The prince must descend to the 
meanest deferences, the most flagrant partiality, the 
humblest dissimulation, and even so low as to wear 
the smiles of content, with resentment at his heart. 

The prince that would govern according to the 
true spirit of civil policy, must make the laws the 
sole rule of his conduct : for his authority is infe- 
rior to the laws, founded upon the will and the whole 
force of the community. He will, in that case, 
know no enemies but the base and wicked, the com- 
mon enemies of society. Whoever interests himself 
in the support of order and the public tranquillity, 
is an assertor of the sovereign authority which pro- 
tects him. Every citizen, in the declared foe of 
his prince, beholds his own personal enemy. Party 
division is banished from the state, and the sove- 
reign, in league with his people, is rendered rich 



'84 

and powerful by the wealth and power of his peo- 
ple. Under no necessity to intrigue with parties, 
he reigns in freedom, perhaps in justice, with his 
crown firm and unshaken on his head. Plis admi- 
nistration, fixed upon the basis of law and public 
security at home, becomes respectable to foreign 
powers ; and, as he is never instigated by caprice 
and pride to wage a war of ambition, his armies, 
maintained and regulated under proper discipline, 
are ready to take the field with vigour and with 
spirit, when the public cause demands the exertion 
of the state against the author of crvii discord, or 
the foreign usurper. Oh ! my friend, let justice be 
the basis of the supreme authority, and the love of 
a grateful people will not fail to be its most invigo- 
rating principle, and its best support. The slave 
will fight but reluctantly for his prison and his 
chains ; but the citizen, who is secure in his civil 
rights, who loves his prince, and is reciprocally be- 
loved, will hazard himself in the defence of the au- 
thority to which he is indebted for his own protec- 
tion. Amidst the hardships of the campaign, and 
the perils of battle, he feels himself inflamed with 
the idea that he is struggling for his fires and his 
altars, for all that can be dear to him. 

Ah ! these lessons, said Tiberius, sink deep into 
my heart ; they are delivered with words that burn ; 
they kindle a flame in the soul. When shall I be 
able to inspire the breast of kings with sentiments 
like these ? 

It is now clear, replied Belisarius, that the true 
splendor and authority of sovereigns are founded on 



86 

justice ; that virtue and beneficence strengthen the 
foundation ; and that the most absolute prince is 
he who reigns in the hearts of his people. — From 
what you have said, interposed Tiberius, it is now 
plain that true policy and reason are convertible 
terms ; and that the art of governing consists in fol- 
lowing the suggestions of wisdom and of virtue.—* 
You are perfectly right, replied Belisarius ; nothing 
can be more simple, more easy in the practice, and 
sure of its effect. The emperor Justin, originally 
an honest peasant of Illyria, who came to a throne 
from the plough, found the way to endear his admi- 
nistration to mankind. Was it owing to his skill in 
politics ? Far from it ; it was owing to the rec- 
titude of his mind, and the amiable dispositions of 
his heart. Were it my lot to govern, I should en-* 
deavour to copy that great example. Far be from 
the breast of a prince that sly, slow policy, that 
looks with an oblique eye upon every thing. It 
looks about indeed with a kind of indirect prudence, 
and recoils in time from rocks and precipices ; but 
it is disquietude at best. How unlike the serenity 
enjoyed by him who loses all thoughts of self in the 
love of millions, and is therefore less exposed than 
the most wary, circumspect, and suspicious tyrant ! 
But the misfortune is, the prince is too often alarmed 
by artful and designing men : he is taught to con- 
sider his people as an enemy to be dreaded : and 
that dread, as soon as impressed, lends reality to 
the ideal danger ; for it gives birth to mistrust, 
and mistrust is the mother of hatred and of ma- 
lice. 



So 

You have observed that a prince, a man almost 
solitary and without connections, has his cares and 
wants contracted into very scanty limits ; that at 
his ease he commands all the real good in life ; 
that he is narrowly circumscribed ; and all beyond 
a small circle, is vanity, illusion, and deceit. While 
nature prescribes to him to be moderate in his de- 
sires, all things about him irritate his passions, and 
stimulate intemperance. Alas ! were it his aim to 
live in harmony with his people, he would have no 
party but his subjects, no interest but that of the 
state. How differently are things circumstanced at 
present ! All confidence is extinguished ; the neces- 
sity of being ever guarded against a turbulent and 
seditious populace is inculcated ; and a standing 
army is maintained to terrify those who should be 
cherished by their sovereign. By these means the 
prince lives at variance with his subjects ; his party 
is formed, and Ambition, with a train of inordinate 
desires, stalks at the head of it. This hydra of fac- 
tion is ever insatiable, and yet unconstitutional means 
must be tried to satisfy its rapacity. Here then 
is the first spring of that monstrous distinction, 
which we have known in the empire, between the 
provinces of the people and the provinces of the 
emperor, between the interests of the subject and 
those of the prince. The idea of property should 
never enter the thoughts of the sovereign. When 
once his imagination is struck with it, it follows 
that the security of his crown and his life seems to 
depend upon that property; and, by a natural pro- 
gress, avarice takes possession of him. He thinks 



87 
himself enriched by the impoverishment of his peo- 
ple ; and whatever rapacity has seized, is set down 
as clear gain. Tn proportion as the subject is plun- 
dered, he appears to the jealous prince reduced to 
a deeper subjection. Hence schemes of rapine on 
the one hand, discontent and repining murmurs on 
the other ; and hence the dark seeds of civil war, 
which, like a smothered flame, lie brooding in the 
very heart of the state, and at length break out in 
sudden eruptions all over the land. Of his private 
coffers the sovereign now thinks he has the full ad- 
vantage ; he congratulates himself on the prudence 
which settled his measures so long beforehand ; but, 
short-sighted man ! he little perceives that, by being 
just, he would have been above such little timid 
precautions; and that all the mean, and of course 
cruel, passions, which list for hire in his cause, would 
be vile and useless, if virtue were the spring of his 
actions. This, my friend Tiberius, this is the doc- 
trine which the future sovereign ought to hear from 
you. Let him once be persuaded that the state and 
the sovereign are but one thing : let him under- 
stand that this political union constitutes his true 
strength, the basis of his dignity, his honour, and his 
peace ; and ideas of property will then be rejected 
as sordid and unworthy 3 . His solid advantage will 
be placed in the good he procures for his people ; 
and thus his passions will transform themselves to 
the virtues of a patriot king, just and equitable for 

3 The emperor Trajan was used to compare the treasure 
of a prince to a swelled and distempered spleen, which en- 
feebles and consumes the rest of the body, 



his own interest, moderate upon principles of ambi* 
tion, and benevolent through very selfishness. It is 
by considering things in this way, my worthy friends, 
that truth appears the parent of virtue. But truth, 
I grant you, appears at first with an awkward mien 
at court. He who gains her first audience from a 
king, must have been endowed with no small degree 
of courage. When flattery has taught the pernicious 
maxims, that princes reign for themselves alone ; 
that royal independence consists in the gratifications 
of desire, and that even caprice is a state-law ; the 
faithful and honest counsellor, who undertakes to 
refute this notable system, will not be graciously 
received : but let him be once heard, and he will 
gain the royal ear : one truth established, the rest 
may be poured upon him with rapidity, for they are 
sure of their effect; and the prince, instead of dread- 
ing, will anticipate the conclusion. 

Truth will now derive charms from virtue, and 
virtue in its turn will lend embellishments to truth. 
It is indispensably necessary that the latter should 
enlighten the mind ; for the inclination of our na- 
ture to a good, whose value js rnot explained, is 
merely a blind, a vague, and uncertain instinct. 
But a desire to serve mankind is virtue, founded on 
the knowledge of remote and extensive consequences. 
To know the interests of humanity, is the true study 
of a prince. Whatever is just, , whatever is useful, 
that is truth, and the truth a king should investigate : 
it is the great band of society ; in all business, in 
every transaction of life, it upholds the chain of 
moral duties ; on mutual wants and mutual aids 



89 
grafts human happiness, and makes the author of 
public good a partaker of the blessings he bestows. 
This is the fit employment of a prince ; to this he 
should dedicate his days ; to know himself, and the 
nature of man 4 ; to develope the secret movements 
of the heart, the operations of habit, the specific 
qualities of character, the influence of opinion, the 
pow 7 ers and the weaknesses of our frame ; to study 
intensely, and not with frivolous curiosity, but a 
fixed and steady determination of the will, with a 
perseverance alarming to flatterers, the temper, the 
manners, and the resources of his people, together 
with the conduct of ministers ; and in this noble en- 
quiry to let in light to the judgment on every side, 
with a detestation of the clandestine informer, and 
a generous encouragement of those who have the 
spirit to call aloud for a redress of grievances com- 
mitted in his name. These are the things which 
constitute the love of truth ; and thus, said he, ad- 
dressing himself to Tiberius, thus every prince will 
love it, who is, as he ought to be, persuaded, that 
to be great, he must be just and upright. In con- 
veying these sentiments to him, you will instruct 
him how to be free* and independent in the midst 
of a court ; for it is there he must be jealous of his 
liberty. To make him sensible of this, will be the 
arduous part of your undertaking : this is the point 
which you must labour with assiduity and firmness, 
— It shall be done, said Tiberius, when I am armed 

4 Quaenam sunt eorum mentes, quibus rebus student, quag 
habent in honore, quae amant : couita te nudas ipsorunj 
mentes intueri, Marc, Antonin. lib. ix. 



90 
with your instructions. — Here the conversation 
broke off, and they took leave of each other. 

It has happened by some strange fatality, said the 
emperor, that in all ages and countries, the friends 
of mankind have been hated by those who are 
bound to be the fathers of the people. The popu- 
larity of Belisarius was his only crime : it was that 
alone provoked his enemies, and perhaps alarmed 
my jealousy. Alas ! they made me fear him ; it 
had been better if I had endeavoured to imitate 
him. 



CHAP. X. 

ABOUT the same hour, on the following day, 
Belisarius expecting his visitors, seated himself 
again under the old oak upon the road, where he 
had received them the evening before. He said, in 
a loud soliloquy, To have found two virtuous men, 
who beguile me from myself, and enter thus into a 
discussion of the great objects of humanity, is a cir- 
cumstance that alleviates my misfortunes. How 
soothing to contemplate the social interests of man ! 
My afflictions arc softened by it ! The very idea of 
being but remotely conducive to the welfare of na- 
tions, has raised me above myself; and now I see 
how the diffusion of benevolence to a whole people 
assimilates man to his Divine Creator. 

Justinian and Tiberius overheard these last words 
as they approached. You are warm in the praise 



91 
of beneficence, said the emperor ; and indeed bene- 
ficence, of ail the virtues, affords the most endearing 
and the sweetest sensations. Happy the man whose 
lot it is to enjoy so noble a pleasure ! — And yet this 
supreme delight must be tasted with moderation, 
replied the hero ; for even goodness itself, if not con- 
ducted by wisdom and justice, degenerates into an 
opposite vice. Attend, young man, said he to 
Tiberius, and mark what I have to offer on this 
head. 

Of sovereign authority, the highest act is the dis- 
tribution of favours and marks of grace : this par- 
takes of the nature of beneficence, and is therefore a 
pleasing exertion of power ; but in the exercise of 
it, it is requisite that the prince should be guarded 
against seduction. The whole of his intelligence 
must arise from those who approach his person ; 
and of that number, there is not one who does not 
for ever inculcate, that the seat of majesty is in the 
court; that all regal splendor is derived from the 
brilliant appearance that enlivens the palace ; and 
that the most valuable prerogative of the crown dis- 
plays itself by a profusion of favours which are stiled 
the munificence of the sovereign. Gracious Heaven ! 
the munificence ! it is the substance of the people 
he bestows ; the spoils of the poor and indigent ! 
Thus the prince is deceived by words : adulation 
and treachery besiege his throne ; assiduity for ever 
pays its court ; and the habit of refusing nothing 
gains upon the credulous sovereign, who little thinks 
of the tears extorted from the poor by the extrava- 
gance of the court : exultation fills the palace, and 



92 
every room echoes with praises of the royal muni- 
ficence. That munificence assumes the mien of 
virtue, and wealth is squandered without considering 
from whence it came. Alas ! would kings reflect 
how their splendor grows out of the misery of others ; 
and for the sake of an ungrateful crew, what a num- 
ber groan in wretchedness ! But, Tiberius, the prince 
who has one true friend will be sure to know this ; 
and he will know besides, that true beneficence con- 
sists more in economy than lavish distribution ; that 
every partial grant is injustice to merit, and that 
from injustice spring all the worst evils that can dis- 
tract a state. 

You behold the munificence of sovereigns, said 
Tiberius, with an eye of severity. — I consider it in 
its true light, replied the hero, as a mere personal 
attachment, which, in the choice of men for public 
offices, counteracts the natural course of justice, of 
nature, and of reason. For justice appropriates ho- 
nours to virtue, and rewards to merit : for the ar- 
duous business of high employments nature brings 
forth great abilities and consummate talents ; and 
surely reason directs, that of men the best possible 
use should be made : but partiality confers the re- 
compence due to virtue upon elegant and polished 
vice : and thus complaisance is preferred to honest 
zeal, adulation to truth, and meanness to elevation 
of soul. The superficial gift of pleasing, as if it 
were superior to every other gift of nature, aspires 
to all the favours of the crown, and generally en- 
grosses them. From these premises it may be in- 
ferred, that partiality in the distribution of favours 



93 
is llie sure mark of a bad reign ; and the prince who 
resigns into the hands of a favourite, the honour of 
his crown, and the welfare of his people, brings mat- 
ters to this dilemma ; he either sets a small value 
upon what he confides to his favourite, or he ascribes 
to his own choice, the power of transforming the 
souls of men, as if he were able to mould a statesman 
or an hero out of a superannuated slave or a youthful 
profligate. 

That, said Tiberius, would be an attempt of the 
most absurd futility ; but employments abound in 
all states, which may be competently filled by men 
of very ordinary talents. 

Not a single employment, replied Belisarius, 
which does not- demand, if not an able, at least an 
honest man ; but royal favour is little solicitous 
about the one or the other : on the contrary, both 
are neglected, or still worse, they are sure to meet 
ail the little indignities of a scornful repulse. Hence 
every talent dies in its bloom, and every virtue wi- 
thers in the bud. Of talents and of virtues, emula- 
tion is the vivifying soul; but partiality is imme- 
diate death. The state in which this vice prevails 
may be compared to those w 7 asteand desolate tracts, 
where certain useful plants spontaneously shoot up, 
but are robbed of their nutriment by the briers and 
brambles that infest the land : and yet this image of 
physical evil does not fully express the political mis- 
chief; for under a reign of favouritism, the briars 
and the brambles are cherished, while every salutary 
plant is eradicated and trampled under foot. 

You seem to assume, said Tiberius, that the royal 



m 

favour invariably wants a due discernment of spirits, 
«nd is never able to make a right choice of men. 

Rarely, if ever, replied Belisarius, insomuch that, 
if the servants of the public were chosen by lot, it 
would be a more infallible mode of election. Par- 
tiality grants its favours to those only who intrigue 
for them ; but merit disdains the little arts of in- 
trigue ; and that manly pride is decyphered by court 
interpreters into neglect of the sovereign, who there- 
fore repays it with calm disdain, while the assi- 
duity of low ambition reaps every advantage. To 
a prince thus prejudiced, what access can there be 
for the sage or the hero ? Can they degrade them- 
selves to the pliancy of slaves? Can dignity of 
mind submit to be a cringing candidate for court-' 
favour ? If nobility of birth gives a title to approach 
the person of the sovereign, what part is to be acted 
in a circle of favourites, by truth, integrity, and 
honour ? Are they likely to excel in the dexterities 
of flattery and dissimulation ? Will they condescend 
to pry into the passions of their master, and explore 
the secret propensities of his heart? The charac- 
ters of the sycophant, the dissembler, and the false 
friend, will be better played by others, who know 
how to touch the string that sounds gratefully to the 
royal ear, and to fly over that which will offend. 
Virtue would appear awkward in the attempt. The 
favourite will acquit himself with grace in all these 
particulars ; but still it will ever be a million to 
one, that he is unworthy of the distinction he en- 
joys, 

The favourite of a discerning, just, and equitable 






95 
prince, interposed the emperor, will, most probably, 
be a man of integrity. 

In the court of a discerning, just, and equitable 
prince, replied Belisarius, there will be no such per- 
son as a favourite ; such a prince will be worthy of 
friends, and he will have them : but favour will do 
nothing for them. A faithful servant would blush 
to be so enriched. If ever there was a faithful ser- 
vant, the emperor Trajan had such an one to boast 
of in his minister Longinus. That true and worthy 
friend of his master was taken prisoner by the Da- 
cians : the king of that people signified to the em- 
peror, that unless he acceded to the conditions of 
peace proposed to him, the captive minister should 
be put to death. And what was Trajan's answer? 
He left it to the honour of Longinus to decide, as 
Regulus had formerly done in his own case. Be- 
hold there the model of public characters i Those 
are the men I have in view! How glorious to be 
the friend of such a prince ! Longinus saw the bright 
occasion, and with a sublime of virtue dispatched 
himself, lest pity should take possession of the em- 
peror, and incline him to an act of partiality or per- 
sonal regard. 

I am overpowered by the weight of your reason- 
ings, said Tiberius : yes, I now perceive, that the 
public weal, when rightly understood, gives no lati- 
tude to the affections of the sovereign ; but are there 
not incidents, unconnected with the interests of the 
people, in which he may reasonably give a scope to 
his private affections? 

I answer in the negative, replied Belisarius : the 



96 
] rince has no positive unconnected interest; every 
thing is relative to the whole. The smallest matters 
are of importance, and even the very civilities of a 
king must be addressed with caution. Royal favour, 
it has been said, is but a partial evil, and displays 
itself only in little things ; but a deviation from the 
strict rule of right, even in trifles, will soon become 
habitual, and from small irregularities to great ex- 
cess the progress is rapid. The circle of the sove- 
reign's favour enlarges itself, and to bask in the sun- 
shine of his smiles grows a general desire ; each cour- 
tier strives to wriggle himself into favour ; and the 
fence thus thrown down, how shall a prince resist 
the ardour of importunity, and the frequency of so- 
licitation ? The fence that should guard him, my 
best Tiberius, is a determination of the will to be 
always just and good. When a principle of upright- 
ness is known to guide the choice of men, it must 
then be merit, and merit alone, that can hope for 
preferment. Talents, exalted qualities, and emi- 
nent services, form the only admissible claim : the 
candidate for honours must render himself worthy 
•of them. Intrigue is discountenanced, and emula- 
tion is animated. Ambition is obliged to proceed 
by manly ways, and, starting at the thought of being 
detected, abandons her little schemes of perfidy and 
cunning. How different is the case> when the prince 
is under the influence of personal affection? To 
gain the ascendant over that affection becomes the 
business of all. He who possesses the arts of insi- 
nuation, and knows how to cabal with the servants 
of upper servants, pursues his drudgery through all 



97 
its stages, and creeps up to preferment, meanly ris* 
ing to splendid infamy. In the mean time, the man 
of virtuous pride retires, and, with the consent of all, 
he is resigned to oblivion. If it should happen, 
that, for some important service, he is callecj from 
obscurity to make one in the glittering crowd, or if 
it should be necessary to employ him on some occa- 
sion w r orthy of his abilities, standing unconnected 
with faction, he finds all parties combined against 
him, till at length it is visible, that he must either 
debase himself by countermining the dark deeds of 
his enemies, or else surrender to them at discretion. 
The court where intrigue prevails, is a wild uproar 
of passions, in which the still voice of truth can ne- 
ver be heard. The public good is an unregarded 
thing, and personal affection is the fountain of all 
praise and censure ; partiality passes its decisions 
upon all occurrences ; and the prince, encompassed 
round with falsehoods, distracted with doubt, suspi- 
cion, and mistrust, scarcely ever puts an end to the 
waverings of his mind, but to terminate in error. 

Why does not he depend upon the evidence of 
facts? said Tiberius; facts are obstinate witnesses, 
and the testimony they give is bold and loud. 

Facts, replied Belisarius, are not so obstinate as 
you may imagine ; they take a new complexion 
from the contrariety of reporters. Every enterprise 
is judged by its event ; and yet events too frequently 
give the palm to rashness, and defeat the best con- 
certed schemes of genius and ability. Men are 
often more fortunate than wise, and there are occa- 
sions when the proposition is reversed. In either 

f 2 



98 
case, the characters of men may suffer much from 
prejudice, and that more particularly in a court, 
where the colours of good and evil are all derived 
from the prevailing opinions of party and faction. 

Justinian, in his old age, is a melancholy example, 
said the emperor; he has been cruelly deceived ! 

Alas ! replied Belisarius, who has more reason than 
myself to know what has been practised upon the 
credulity of Justinian? Who is better acquainted 
with the snares that faction laid for him ? It was 
faction sent Narses into Italy to interrupt the pro- 
sperity of Belisarius. The emperor little imagined, 
that a minister of the finances would be a dangerous 
rival of the general : but Narses had his faction at 
court, and he soon found one in the camp ; a spirit 
of dissention prevailed, and Milan, the bulwark of 
Italy, was lost. Narses was recalled, but too late ; 
the tide of success was now ebbing away ; Milan 
had been sacked* her inhabitants put to the sword, 
and all Liguria dismembered from the empire. That 
Narses was pardoned by the emperor, I most hear- 
tily rejoice ; for the life of so great a man *, we have 
one obligation at least to the decline of all military 
discipline. In the virtuous days of the republic, for 
the complicated crimes of disobedience, and the se- 
duction of part of my army, Narses would have 
atoned with his head. I was recalled in my turn. 
To succeed me in the command of the army, eleven 
chiefs, all jealous of each other, were appointed by a 

> In bello qui rem a duce prohibitam fecit, aut mandata 
non servavit, capite punitur, etiamsi rem bene gesserit, 
Pand. lib. xlix. tit. 16. 



99 
new-fangled party. Discord prevailed in their coun- 
cils, and they were defeated. By this means we lost 
all Italy. The command was transferred to me ; 
but I was a general without an army. I was obliged 
to traverse over Thrace and Illyria in quest of sol- 
diers. A scanty number, not exceeding four thou- 
sand, was collected together. With this rash-levied 
body, who had neither clothes, horses, arms, or pro- 
visions, I marched into Italy. In this condition, 
what was to be done ? With the utmost difficulty, 
I prevented Rome from falling into the hands of the 
enemy. The cabal at court rejoiced at this disas- 
trous prospect of affairs : Things are going as we 
could wish, said they ; he is in the last extremity, 
merely standing at bay a little, to be presently over- 
whelmed in ruin. Amidst the desolation of their 
country, I was the only object of their attention : to 
see my ruin accomplished, they would have com- 
pounded to seethe state shook to its foundations. I 
demanded a supply of men, and I was recalled. 
Narses, with a powerful army, was appointed to 
succeed me, and, beyond all question, Narses had- 
abilities to justify the choice. That he was named 
to the command, was perhaps a public benefit; but 
before I was wounded, the commonwealth received: 
a stab : the ruin of Belisarius was purchased at the 
expence of the state. There lies the mischief of party.. 
To raise or overturn a single man, an entire army,, 
perhaps an empire, must be sacrificed. 

Alas ! exclaimed Justinian, I now perceive the- 
treacherous arts by which your glory as obscurexL 



100 
What an indelible stain to the emperor, thus to have 
believed the suggestions of your enemies ! 

My good neighbour, replied Belisarius, you are 
little aware of the refinement which court-policy has 
acquired in the arts of destruction ; you do not know 
the genius of intrigue, how active it is, how perse- 
vering, how assiduous, and implacable. Respectful 
and obsequious to the sentiments of the sovereign, 
it manages with caution, and works its effects by 
degrees, like the drop of water that only oozes at 
first through its fence, saps on by imperceptible 
strokes, and then in one rushing torrent bears down 
all. Cabal and party have this further advantage 
on their side, that the man of honour is without mis- 
trust, and of course without precaution : he has no- 
thing to oppose to the malice of his enemies but his 
upright conduct, which is ever discoloured by envy, 
and his honest fame, of which the report, that rings 
throughout the realm, expires and dies away at the 
gates of the palace. Envy alone is privileged within 
the verge of the court, and the character against 
which her shafts are aimed, is sure to fall a victim. 
In the course of human contingencies it cannot other- 
wise happen, but that every commander must expe- 
rience the vicissitudes of fortune, and find his train 
of victory sometimes interrupted. Of every casualty 
envy takes advantage, and makes even accidents a 
ground ofimpeachment. Has the commander done 
all that was possible ? He ought to have done bet- 
ter ; any body but himself would have acted upon 
a different plan ; he did i;ot make a right use of his 



101 

opportunities. The charge against him is aggra- 
vated, and the good he has done dwindles into no- 
thing. The result is, that the man who can be 
useful to his country, is the most dangerous person 
in it. To the misfortune of the public, his downfal 
is effected ; and, to their greater misfortune, some 
worthless wretch is sure to rise upon his ruins. An- 
other concomitant evil is, the impression made upon 
the minds of men by the melancholy prospect of 
virtue in distress, and of vice exulting in prosperity. 
Public spirit grows languid at the reflection, that all 
the fine incentives of honour are extinguished: guilt 
is emboldened, the evil conscience forgets to blush, 
and excesses of every kind riot with impunity. Such 
are the evils that attend a reign of favouritism. 
Judge yourself, how such a disposition may preci- 
pitate the ruin of the state. 

Without doubt, said Justinian, it is the most dan- 
gerous infirmity that ever biassed the mind of a 
prince ; but in an old man, who for thirty years 
has struggled to no purpose in the storms of fortune, 
and at last, in spite of all his efforts, sees the tempest 
ready to burst in ruin on his head : in one thus worn 
out with age and troubles, may it not be deemed an 
excusable weakness, if he endeavours to sweeten his 
cares, or at least to alleviate them, by indulging the 
private affections? It will answer no purpose to be 
too sanguine in our hopes; let us not deceive our- 
selves with flattering ideas of the public condition : 
even now the empire, by its own weight, is tottering 
to its fall. By a length of duration all its vigour is 
exhausted, and it must share at last the common 



102 
fate which brought the empires of Bel us and Cyrus 
to their dissolution. Like them it has flourished in 
splendor, and like them it must moulder into ruin. 

I am no fatalist, replied Belisarius, in regard to 
revolutions of government : that would be to give 
a sanction to our present degeneracy of spirit, and 
make despair systematical. That all sublunary 
things* and kingdoms amongst them, perish and die 
away, 1 am not now to learn : but that nature has 
traced the bounds of existence to all its productions, 
seems a position rather problematical. The body 
natural indeed has its period when the animal func- 
tions decay, and calmly we welcome death ; but 
there never does occur a moment, in which it is al- 
lowed us to despair of the commonwealth. The 
body-politic, it must not be dissembled, is subject 
to convulsions that shake its frame, to slow disorders 
that consume its vigour, and to spasms that elevate 
for a while, to plunge it into deeper dejection after- 
wards. Activity, it is true, strains all its efforts \ 
repose is apt to relax ; and civil contention breaks 
the constitutional strength ; but not one of these 
accidents is mortal in its nature. Nations have 
been saved from the very brink of destruction ; they -, 
have emerged from the very depth of misery ; and, 
after struggling through the severest crisis, have been 
re-animated to a vigour unknown before. The de- 
clension of states is not therefore marked out ; the 
line is not drawn, like the limits of human life. Old 
age is unknown to the body-politic ; it is the chi- 
mera of mistaken theorists. The same ardour of 
hope that inspirits the heart of valour, may extend 



103 

its influence, and give animation for any length of 
time. The constitution of the empire is now en- 
feebled, or rather it has sunk into a languid state ; 
but for every poison there is an antidote in nature, 
and it behoves us to discern it. — Let us investigate 
it together, said the emperor; there will be something 
soothing in the research : but, before we think of the 
remedy, let us trace the disorder to its first princi- 
ples. — I am willing to enter into the discussion, re- 
plied Belisarius, and it will furnish us ample matter 
for our future meetings. 



CHAP. XL 



1HE next day, Justinian was impatient to see Be- 
lisarius. He longed to have the veil torn off which 
hid the lurking mischiefs of the empire, and he 
pressed with eagerness to the interview. Belisarius 
dated his reflections from the era of Constantine. 
How much is it to be lamented, said the hero, that 
so enlarged a genius, with all that firmness, that 
spirit of enterprise, should egregiously mistake the 
fitness of the means to produce the end desired, and 
exert for the extinction of the empire more vigour 
and activity, than would have been necessary to re- 
trieve its ancient honours ! His new system of go- 
vernment was a master-stroke of human wit : the 
pretorian bands abolished ; the children of the poor 



104 

and helpless adopted by the state l , the authority 
of the prefect distributed into more hands 2 , and 
weakened of course ; the lands upon the frontiers 
assigned to the veteran soldiers, who formed an agra- 
rian army for the defence of the empire ; this was 
indeed a wise institution, a large and comprehensive 
policy. Why did not he adhere entirely to a plan 
so just and simple ? He did not see, or he was un- 
willing to see, that, to transplant the seat of empire, 
it must be torn up by the very roots. In vain did 
he propose to himself, that the city he was founding 
should be a second Rome ; in vain was the latter de- 
spoiled of its richest ornaments, for the decoration 
of the former : it was a mere theatrical shifting of 
scenery, the gaudy spectacle of a pantomime. 

You astonish me, said Tiberius, interrupting him ; 
I was used to think the capital of the world more 
advantageously situated upon the Bosphorus, in the 
middle of two seas, and between Europe and Asia, 
than in the heart of Italy, upon the banks of a river, 
which scarce deserves the name of navigable. 

Constantine thought as you do, replied Belisarius, 
and he was mistaken. The state, which is obliged 
to carry war into foreign territories, must be governed 
by a sound internal policy, compact within itself, 
and easy to be defended. Such was the advantage 

1 When the parent was unable to maintain his child, the 
state took the charge upon itself, and the infant was edu- 
cated at the expence of the public ; and this law Constan- 
tine directed to be engraved on marble, that he might pei- 
petuate it through all successive age:«. 

2 Zosim, lib. ii. cap. 33. 






105 

of Italy. The hand of nature seemed to have made 
it a residence for the masters of the world. The 
mountains and the sea which inclose it, formed a 
strong barrier against invasion : guard but the Alps, 
and Rome was guarded too. If that fence proved 
too weak to repel the enemy, the A p pen nines af- 
forded a safe retreat, and served as a rampart to 
half Italy. It was there that Camillus gave the 
Gauls a signal overthrow ; and in that spot Narses 
obtained his brilliant victory over Totila. 

At present, the empire has no fixed immoveable 
centre, but lies open and exposed to all the assaults 
of fortune. Ask the Scythian, the Sarmatian, and 
the Slavonian, whether the Heber, the Danube, and 
the Tanais, are barriers to obstruct their march ? On 
that side Byzantium is our only fence; that its walls 
are not in due repair, is not the circumstance that 
grieves me most. 

When Rome was the seat of empire, the esta- 
blished policy of government was able to carry the 
vigour of its laws from the centre to the extremity 
of the state : all Italy was under its immediate in- 
fluence, within the reach of the administration : the 
law gave the tone to the manners, and the manners 
in their turn made grave and faithful ministers of 
justice. We have indeed now the same institutions ; 
but, as all is transplanted from the place of its 
growth, the consequence is, that every thing droops, 
as if regretting its native soil. The empire is not 
collected in itself, as it was before: it is enlarged, and 
thereby weakened. The national character has lost 



106 

its spirit: even the endearing name of country is gone 
from amongst us. Italy was renowned for men who 
imbibed with their first breath the love of their 
country, and grew to manhood amidst the exercises 
of the Campus Martins. At present, where is the 
cradle, and where the school of warriors ? The Dal- 
matians, the Illyrians, and the Thracians, who are 
now mingled with us, are in fact as foreign as the 
Numidians and the Moors ; no common interest to 
unite them in one common cause, no kindred spirit 
to actuate and inspire them. " Remember that you 
" are Romans," said a commander to his soldiers, 
in the days of the old republic ; and that short ha- 
rangue was of efficacy to brace their nerves for la- 
bour, and to render them invincible in battle^ What 
animating topic have we to insist upon ? Shall we 
say, " Remember that you are Armenians, Numi- 
** dians, or Dalmatians ?" We are no longer one 
body-politic, and there lies the cause of our debility. 
The projectors of our new settlement were not 
aware, that, to form that coalition, that unity of 
interests, which we call our country, requires the 
progressive toil of ages, the slow and imperceptible 
working of sentiment, habit, and opinion. Our 
new city was embellished by Constantine with sta- 
tues of Roman heroes : but alas ! the policy was 
ineffectual ; for the men, whose images we only 
saw, lived and breathed the flame of liberty in the 
Capitol ! The genius that inspired them did not 
embark on board our ships: we imported inanimate 
marble only. Paulus iEmilius, the Scipios, and the 



107 
Catos, are silent here and mute ; they are foreigners 
at Byzantium ; but at Rome they harangued the 
people, and the people understood and felt them. 

I do not perceive, said Justinian, but the empire, 
since the seat of government was removed, has en- 
joyed a truer state of peace and security, than it 
knew at Rome for a long series of years. The 
people there had fallen into degeneracy, and the 
senate sunk deeper in shame and servitude. 

When the administration is confided to improper 
hands, replied Belisarius, the strength and dignity 
of every state will be impaired, and a train of cala- 
mities must ensue. At Rome, however, nothing but 
one good reign was wanting to recal the constitution 
to its first principles. Take a view of Adrian's ad- 
ministration : the state seemed under him to rise 
out of its ruins. Behold Marcus Aurelius upon the 
throne: to what an height of glory and magnifi- 
cence was the condition of the empire raised by the 
conduct of that excellent prince ! Roman virtue has 
been often eclipsed, but not extinguished : whenever 
a prince appeared of a genius to rekindle the spirit 
of his country, the latent fire was always ready ta 
mount into a blaze. But alas ! every principle of vir- 
tue is now destroyed : the seed must be sown again ; 
and that must be the arduous task of a long reign,, 
founded in justice, moderation, and wisdom. No- 
thing but a prodigy of this sort can redeem us in 
this juncture. Our very victories may be the ruin 
of the state. We have an hundred enemies to cope 
with, and those enemies have but one. An idea is 
conceived that they may be all subdued ; and yet 



ios 

one is no sooner crushed, but he rises again; a fresh 
foe is ever ready to find us employment, and by a 
rapidity of succession, they give breathing time to 
each other. Bv this diversion of our arms, a con- 
stant alarm is kept up, and the state, thus distracted, 
grows feeble every day. The march of armies to 
various and distant places consumes our strength ; 
the vigour of our measure strains every nerve, to 
relax us more in the end ; and every victory is a 
wound which has no time to close. Thus, after an 
exertion of all the powers of the empire to maintain 
its own importance, a single day shall shake it to its 
foundation, and render the labour of twenty years 
abortive in a single hour. Recollect how often, 
under the present reign, our standard has been hur- 
ried about the world, from the Tiber to the Eu- 
phrates, and from the Euphrates to the Danube ! 
And now what is the consequence? what is the fruit 
of so many victories, under Mundus, Germanicus, 
Salomon, Narses, and myself, if I may be added to 
the number? A peace is all we have obtained at last. 

And if our victories exhaust us, said the emperor, 
it is right to bring things to that conclusion. 

To buy a peace, replied Belisarius, is not the 
way to prevent the calamities of war. The savage 
of the north has nothing in view but booty ; and if 
he is sure of gaining it, his motive to frequent in- 
cursions grows the stronger. The Persian need on'y 
spread an alarm every year through our fairest pro- 
vinces in Asia, and he goes back loaded with our 
money. A new way of exterminating the plunderer, 
by holding forth the booty that invites him ! The 









109 
price of peace becomes the principle of war; and 
our emperors, by exhausting their subjects, have 
pampered and inflamed the avarice of their ene- 
mies. 

You affect me deeply, said Justinian ; what bul- 
wark would you oppose to the invasions of the ene- 
my? — A good army, replied Belisarius; and above 
all, a people free and happy. When the barba- 
rians rush into our provinces, they are attracted by 
the love of plunder ; and though they leave desola- 
tion and hatred behind them, yet their purpose is 
answered if they leave impressions of terror also. 
The case is different with an empire that would 
maintain its possessions in security. If it does not 
endear its government to mankind, it may as well 
abdicate; for it is a self-evident proposition, that ail 
authority founded on fear will grow weak at every 
remove from the capital, till at last, fading by de- 
grees, it is lost in distance. To rule by the medium 
of fear from Taurus to the Alps, and from Caucasus 
to the foot of Atlas, is an impossibility in politics. 
If the subject groans under the weight of his griev- 
ances, and power supports itself by the sweat of his 
brow, of what moment is it to him whether Ro- 
mans or Persians are his oppressors ? The authority 
that burdens us will never be well defended ; and 
the nation that has not spirit to resist oppression, 
will crouch with tame acquiescence under the first 
deliverer that appears. Would you give stability to 
government ? lay your foundation in the affections 
of mankind ; and the affections of mankind are 
«ver attached to the principles of humanity, of be- 



110 

aeficence, integrity, public faith, and zeal for the 
happiness of millions. Those are the virtues that 
command a willing people. The spirit of the con- 
stitution is then diffused over the whole dominion, 
alive and active in each distant part; the people are 
all as one hand and one heart, and every province is 
the seat of government. 

I shall have frequent occasion to allude to my- 
self, continued Belisarius ; and, my worthy young 
man, said he to Tiberius, by appealing to my expe- 
rience, you have made all apology for egotism un- 
necessary. When I had the conduct of the war in 
Africa, I considered those regions as part of my na- 
tive country. The regular and strict discipline, 
which I established throughout my army, procured 
the good will of mankind, and attracted plenty 
from every quarter. In a little time I had the sa- 
tisfaction of seeing my camp resorted to as a sanc- 
tuary by every various people, who crowded to my 
standard, and listed under me. The day which 
saw me enter Carthage at the head of a victorious 
army, did not hear a single groan : neither the 
quiet nor the usual employments of the citizens 
suffered on the occasion : industry and commerce 
pursued their interests, as if it had been a time of 
profound peace : and in return for this benefit, felt 
by all orders of men, it was in my power to become 
the king of a people who called me their common 
father. The same happened to me in Italy : there 
the native inhabitants gathered about me in crowds, 
resigning themselves to the empire: and at Ravenna 
I received the supplications of the Goths, imploring 



Ill 

their conqueror to be their sovereign. Behold here 
the influence, the empire of humanity. Do not 
suspect that I am here my own panegyrist : all my 
merit consisted in following the lessons the very 
barbarians gave me. Yes, even the barbarians can 
boast their Titus and their Marcus Aurelius. Theo- 
doric and Totila deserved the love of human kind. 
Ye cities of Italy ! exclaimed Belisarius, what a 
contrast have you seen between us and the barba- 
rians ! At Naples in particular, my eyes beheld men, 
"women, and children, slaughtered in one common 
carnage. I flew to their assistance : I snatched the 
unhappy, the innocent victims from the fury of an 
incensed soldiery : but I was single in opposition to 
them, and my entreaties were lost in air : the men 
whose duty it was to second me, were intent on 
plunder. The same place was reduced by the ge- 
nerous Totila. Thrice happy prince ! he had the 
glory of saving it from the ravage of his troops. His 
deportment was that of a tender father in the midst 
of his family. Humanity cannot display a scene 
more truly pathetic than this generous prince exert- 
ing his best offices for the protection of a people 
that surrendered to his arms, i It was the same at 
Rome ; that very Rome which saw the officers of the 
empire, in the midst of all the horrors of a famine, 
carrying on the detestable trade of a monopoly. It 
was in this manner our enemies conciliated the af- 
fections of mankind. Their justice and moderation 
hurt us more than their valour. 

How, on our part, did we counteract their vir- 
tues? In no shape whatever: xhe inhumanity, the 



112 

avarice, the tyranny of our commanders, leagued 
with the enemy, and served their cause. I had no 
sooner resigned the command in Italy, than the 
same Goths, whose proffered crown I had just re- 
fused, with one general consent, with a kind of epi- 
demic spirit, kindled to indignation by the malver- 
sation of those who succeeded me, resolved at once 
to shake off the yoke. Hence the reign of Totila, 
and all the misfortunes of Italy. When I had sub- 
dued the Vandals, it was my ambition to settle terms 
of amity between the empire and the Moors ; and I 
thought I had succeeded to my satisfaction : but my 
back was scarcely turned, when our honourable 
plunderers, our chiefs, who made war a gainful 
trade, our illustrious sons of riot and rapacity, in- 
fringed every treaty I had made, and let loose the 
most horrible violence to pillage their cities and de- 
solate their fields. By desperation the Moors were 
soon roused to vengeance, and our provinces were 
deluged with blood. From oppression sprung re- 
volt, and all the bands of peace were rent asun- 
der. 

From the same causes in the heart of the empire 
the same effects have been produced. Imbecility in 
ministers, avarice in proconsuls, inhumanity and 
despotism in the governors of cities and of pro- 
vinces ; these are the enormities which I have seen 
in every quarter. To these it is owing, that every 
department of government is now become an into- 
lerable charge to the people. In order to enforce a 
passive obedience under the burden, recourse is had 
to measures of the most grievous nature : the militia 



113 

kas been abolished, and the subject has been ex 
eluded from the sacerdotal order ; nay, the right of 
alienating their property has been wrested from them ; 
and, to crown the whole with what will scarcely be 
believed, they are deprived of the miserable liberty 
of becoming bondmen. Can it be expected that, 
harassed thus cruelly, the people will be reconciled 
to the yoke that galls them? Can there exist in 
their idea any ties of interest, or of duty, between 
them and their oppressors? The burst of every 
groan that despair and misery extort, is instantly 
proclaimed treason ; and armies are marched to carry 
£re and sword through the provinces. A new and 
cruel way of reducing mankind to obedience by their 
total ruin ! And then, of what use are subjects thus 
reduced, and broken-hearted under a load of griev- 
ances? A well-governed people should be at once 
both spirited and complying ; and both these qua- 
lities would unite, were they not prevented by the 
pride and arrogance of little tyrants, who too often 
make the reign of a well-disposed prince an odious 
system of cruelty and arbitrary power. 

It is upon ministers, and all the little substitutes 
of authority, that a sovereign must depend for the 
love or the hatred of mankind. He ought there- 
fore to watch them with a careful and a jealous eye. 
They are too often the most cruel enemies he has ; for 
of all the evils that can attend a prince, the aversion 
of his people is the worst, and yet that is brought 
upon him by his officers of state. Whatever they 
dare for the gratification of spleen, pride, avarice, 
and their mean capricious passions, it is all, in minis- 

G 



114 

terial language, the direction of the sovereign ; it is 
for the support of government. Though they are 
the planners of every pernicious project, yet, in 
carrying it into execution, they are, if you will be- 
lieve them, but servants of the crown ; and thus the 
prince is made the involuntary unconscious scourge 
of a people he loves. My dear Tiberius, continued 
the hero, if ever your royal master has the happiness 
of embracing you as his friend, let it be your advice 
never to slacken the reins of authority, that all who 
are under it may feel the curb of justice. Every act 
of petty tyranny committed in the name of the prince, 
is sure to sully the lustre of his crown with the tears 
of the afflicted. An evil administration is a libel 
upon the character of the sovereign. But when 
iniquity is controlled, when corruption is checked, 
and the grievances of the subject redressed by a pa- 
triot prince, the complaints of injured men will in- 
deed be addressed to :he throne, but no murmurings 
against it will ever be heard. The indignation of 
the subject will be pointed at its proper object ; it 
will pursue the authors of public mischief, while the 
good and upright sovereign still possesses the affec- 
tions of a grateful people. 

There is nothing, interposed Justinian, more beau- 
tiful in theory, than a prince attending to the move- 
ments of every minute wheel in the great machine 
of government. But the objects are too complicated, 
and he would be distracted by the multiplicity of 
views. To hear the complaints of the subject, and 
to examine things to the bottom, so as to decide 
in all cases with justice and moderation, would in- 



115 

deed be an illustrious task, but it is greatly above 
the powers of any prince whatever. 

Those are the phantoms of difficulty, replied Beli- 
sarius, that are conjured up to deter him from the 
task ; but those phantoms, when examined with a 
stedfast eye, discover themselves to be mere mockery, 
and they vanish. The art of governing, we shall see 
to-morrow, is by no means so complicated as politic 
men would make us believe. Farewell, my friends. 
You see how, of my own accord, I now engage my- 
self more deeply in this discussion than I at first in- 
tended. To rule ideal kingdoms is a kind of castle- 
building which the imagination of man is fond of 
indulging ; and there are few, I believe, who, in 
their visionary reign and their dreams of power, do 
not, like myself, think themselves capable of regu- 
lating the fate of empires. — Political theories, said 
Justinian, are often the delirious chimeras of the vul- 
gar, but they are, at the same time, the noble specu- 
lations of the sage and the philosopher. 

The emperor withdrew, deeply impressed with 
the reflections and the reasonings he had heard. 
That very night at supper, it was observed by his 
courtiers, that the state never knew a better or more 
flourishing condition. Without doubt, said Justi- 
nian, addressing himself to the flattering train, the 
empire must be in a flourishing way, for you riot in 
abundance ; it must be happy also, for you are 
dissolved in ease and luxury. The people, in your 
estimate, pass for a mere cipher, and the court with 
you is deemed the empire. At these words they ail 
looked down discountenanced. The remark of the 



116 

emperor was thought to proceed from that spleen 
which had of late overcast his mind, and which, they 
all agreed, was entirely occasioned by his late con- 
ferences with Tiberius. Tiberius, said they, is a 
young zealot, whose imagination is overheated 
with the enthusiasm of virtue and popular humanity. 
A man of that character is always dangerous at 
court ; he must be removed from the emperor's 
presence. 



CHAP. XII. 



THE next day, while the new intrigue at court 
was hatching its designs, the blind old hero, and 
his two guests, resumed the thread of their dis- 
course. 

The sovereign, said Belisarius, who means to be 
a real, and not a nominal prince, ought to know 
how to reduce things to their most simple principles. 
His first care should be, to inform himself of the 
true interests of his people, and the conduct they ex- 
pect he should observe \ — That alone, said Tiberius, 
is a large held of contemplation. — But it is not a 
perplexed contemplation, said Belisarius ; nothing 
can be more simple; for the wants of an individual 
are the wants of all, and each of us knows intuitively, 
what is good and tit for the whole human species. 

1 Semper officio fungitur, utiiitati hominum consuleiis et 
societati, Cicero de C/f. 3. 



117 

As for instance, said he to the young man, if it were 
your lot to be employed in the labours of husbandry, 
what would you expect from the benevolence of your 
sovereign ? — I should expect, answered Tiberius, 
security for the fruits of my industry, and an unmo- 
lested right, after the dues of the crown were paid, 
to enjoy my gettings with my wife and children. I 
should desire to be protected in my property against 
fraud and rapine, and to see myself and my family 
safe from violence, injustice, and oppression. — Very 
well, replied Belisarius ; in that consists the whole : 
every citizen, according to his distinctive rank, re- 
quires the same, and nothing more. Now the prince, 
on his part, continued Belisarius, what does he de- 
mand of his subjects ? — Obedience to his law T s, ne- 
cessary supplies, and a proper force to support his 
own dignity, and the authority of government.— 
That again is simple and just, said Belisarius. With 
regard now to the people in their relation to one 
another, what are their reciprocal duties? — To live 
in peace and harmony, to injure no man, to leave to 
every one the quiet possession of his own, and in all 
transactions to preserve an honest intercourse and 
good faith. — In that state of the case, my worthy 
friend, said Belisarius, we have an epitome of human 
happiness : for that end, you see that law has ^no 
need to be voluminous. Twelve tables, at one time, 
comprised the laws of Rome ; and that time was at 
least as eligible as the present. What we call just, 
is the balance of what is useful, and the liquidation 
of what is coming to each individual from the aggre- 
gate of public good. Let equity adjust this account, 



118 
and trie code which directs it need not be long. Bui 
equity is now embroiled with complications, that 
have swelled to an unwieldy size. This mischief is 
owing to the capricious detail of an arbitrary dispo- 
sition, which sets up its own caprice in the place of 
law, and then makes the law as vague and uncertain 
as that very caprice itself: it is owing to a poor pu- 
sillanimity, that with solicitude is ever inventing new 
snares to entangle civil liberty : it is owing to the pride 
and jealousy of power, which never thinks it can 
make its weight sufficiently felt : and, in short, it 
is owing to a vain desire of superintending a multi- 
plicity of minute objects, which would all work 
themselves clear, and be properly adjusted without 
any such superintendence. A digest has been made 
in the present reign of edicts and decrees without 
number ; but, after all, it is the school for lawyers,, 
and not for the people ; whereas it is the people wIig* 
ought to be instructed in their duties and their 
rights. Every citizen ought, in the first instance, 
to be his own judge : it is fit, therefore, that every 
citizen should know distinctly and with precision 
what is prescribed 2 , forbid, and permitted by the 
law. To this end there need only be a few good 
laws, simple, clear, sensible, and easy in their appli- 
cation to the actions of men. This w r ould facilitate 
the administration of justice, and abridge the detail 
of subtleties that now entangle it. For when the 
rights and the duties annexed to civil conduct are 



'D 1 



a Legis virtus haec est, iniperare, vetare, permitfere, pw~ 
aire. Pand* lil>, i. tit. 3. 



119 

universally felt and understood, the subject exults 
in his security, and acquiesces in subordination : he 
perceives the ascertained degree of political liberty, 
which he gains in return for the resignation of his 
natural privileges to the authority of the state ; and, 
finding his own private advantage in the public 
safety, he learns to reverence the wisdom of that in* 
stitution, which has united both in so beautiful a con- 
nection. 1 would ask to what reason it is to be 
assigned, that the subject is so often refractory to 
the authority of government ? It is because the laws, 
which limit and abridge the liberty of the people, 
are ever expounded with rigour; while, on the other 
hand, those which favour natural freedom, receive 
too often a negligent, a temporising construction* 
But this abuse would be effectually remedied by the 
fair simplicity of a popular code, or a system 
adapted to the capacity of the whole community ; 
from whence it would result, that the judges, ob- 
serving mankind sufficiently instructed in the rules 
of right, nay, in a capacity to appeal from them, to 
a known, precise, and determinate law, would be 
upon their guard not to make it comply with occa- 
sions, or to vary the spirit of it according to then? 
own discretion. 

Of laws, which are designed to entrench upon 
the rights of the subject, those that fasten upon pro- 
perty are the worst, and most liable to abuse. They 
are not indeed levelled at the lives and liberties of 
the people ; but the hands of the people are never 
tied up but with an intention to plunder them. Of 
the excesses,, moreover, commuted by the officers of 



120 
the revenue, there is scarcely ever one that doe} 
not involve in it the crime of avarice. This then i* 
the rust object to which the sovereign's eve should 
be directed : it should be his first care to establish 
the collection of his taxes upon the clearest and 
most intelligible system. While imposts are mul- 
tiplied, and the laws 3 that establish the taxation 
continue vague, complex, and uncertain, the admi- 
nistration of this whole department will ever be cap- 
tious, fraudulent, and oppressive. These laws, there- 
fore, must be rendered as simple as possible : they 
must be penned with accuracy and precision, and 
the tax itself, that indispensable demand of govern- 
ment -, should be equal, easy, and founded in the 
htness of things : it should be one general impost, 
though varied in its application to sundry wise and 
good pin-poses ; and finally, it should be uniform 
throughout the realm, like the tribute or tithe whiclv 
Sicily 5 paid with pleasure to the Romans, or like 
that which was levied in Asia £ , in proportion to 
the annual increase or loss, and gained for Caesar, 
the author of it, the affections of mankind. Were 
i he hnances thus regulated, fraud would not be able 
to entrench itself in the labvrinths of law, and the 

3 Sub irnperaioribus vectigalia, nori lege ac ratione, sed 
:ratu imperatorum processerunt. Buiing* de tribut. ac 

i-ectlg. P. R. 

4 Quomain neque quies sine armis, neque utrumque sine 
tributis haberi possunt. Lir.-lib. r, 

5 Omnis ager Siciliae deeurnanus. Billing, uli supra. 

6 Vide App. de bello civ. lib. v. Pro anoi copia vel ino- 
pia, uberius (ex Asia) vel angustius vectigal exaction est*. 
Dio, lib. xlv. 



12L 

absurdity 7 of edicts: but the right, established upon 
clear and simple principles, would carry the clearest 
evidence of truth along with it ; and that truth would 
draw the line to circumscribe the power of the offi- 
cers. Thus the laws of taxation, by ceasing to be 
arbitrary, would, cease to be detestable. 

You are aware, said the emperor, of the reasoning 
that encounters these principles : make taxation 
simple, and you reduce it at the same time. — I 
wish to do so, replied Belisarius. — But, resumed 
Justinian, if the people are left too much at ease, by 
a natural consequence they grow lazy, arrogant, re- 
bellious, and untractable. — Gracious Heaven ! ex- 
claimed Belisarius ; will assuring to men the fruits 
of their labour give them an aversion to industry ? 
Will men become rebels, because their happiness is 
secured and promoted ? But the fear is, that they 
will prove arrogant ! Alas ! I know that little tyrants 
would be glad to see them crouch like slaves under 
the masters lash. But I w T ould desire to know, to 
whom should the subject bend, while his conduct is 
free from reproach or guilt? There is no power on 
earth, but that of the laws and of the legal sovereign, 
to which an honest member of society owes any de- 
ference. I would ask further, Will usurpation be as 
sure of having obedience paid to it, as will that mild 
authority, which creates for itself a kind of paternal 

7 The emperors laid a duty upon urine, dust, ordure, dead 

bodies, smoke, air, &c. There were rights of the turf, the 
highway, shorage, duties upon carriages, beasts of burden, 
See. et quae alia (says Tacitus) exactiouibus illicitis nomine* 
publics ni invenerunt. Vide Bufrtg. ubi supra. 

G 2 



fgg 

empire over the hearts of men, by works of bene- 
ficence, and by generous deeds that call for grati- 
tude, affection, and esteem ? Believe me, I know the 
character of the people '. they are not what they are 
represented. Are they dispirited, nay, disaffected > 
It is owing to their grievances. Is their temper 
soured ? and are they grown reluctant to command ? 
It is because they find themselves for ever acquiring, 
and never sure of possessing. In sober sadness, thia 
is the truth : but it is discoloured with art ; design- 
ing men dogmatize on the subject, and they endea- 
vour to give their falsehood the air and sanction of 
appearing systematical. The principle upon which 
they ground themselves is, that the race of man 
lives in subserviency to a very small part of the 
species, and that the world was made for the use of 
themselves and a few leading men. — It is an incon- 
ceivable pride, said Justinian, and yet a pride too 
common to the human mind. — Not so common as 
you imagine, replied Belisarius ; we hear it indeed 
often, but it is from men who are acting a part ; it 
is a sort of paradox in politics that never had one 
sincere believer. I will venture to say, there never 
yet existed a person of common sense, however emi- 
nent his station, who, upon a comparative view of 
himself and the people, who support, who nourish, 
and defend him r did not shrink back with humility 
into himself; for he feels his imbecility, his necessi- 
ties, and his state of dependence. His pride is a 
mask, a mere assumed character ; but the mischief 
is, he is so practised in the character, that he has 
learned to play it well, and to impose upon his au- 






tM 

dience. May Heaven preserve your royal friend, 
iny worthy Tiberius, from this fatal illusion ! That 
he may be effectually preserved from it, direct his 
attention to the early periods and primitive condi- 
tion of civil society : he will then observe three 
classes of men, each subsisting in a state of reciprocal 
aid and dependence : the husbandman, in the 1st 
place, employed in the cultivation of the earth for 
the support of life ; the artificer, 2dly, whose occu- 
pation it was to give to the materials of the earth 
their relative forms and fitness for use; and, 3d\j, 
the statesman, or able politician, who consecrated 
himself to the arts of government for the good order 
and well-being of society. In this federal union not 
one of the parties is useless or inactive: the advan- 
tage of mutual succour is circulated in full exertion 
through all the members, according to the powers 
of each ; and thus bodily force, labour, and indus-* 
try, intellectual ability, the faculties of the mind^ 
superior talents, and eminent virtues, all conspire 
and act in concert for the general good. This order 
of things, simple, natural, and regular as it may ap- 
pear, is the true analysis of government : These are 
the original forms into which political economy must 
resolve itself; these the first principles to which it is 
reducible. 

You cannot but observe what an outrage it would 
be against all good sense and order, if any one of 
these classes should revolt against the others : you 
must see that they are equally dependent, and equally 
conducive to each other ; and that, if a preference 



124 
can be ascribed to any one in particular, it most be 
to the husbandman, inasmuch as the support of life 
is the first great principle and desire of nature: the 
art, therefore, that nourishes man, must be the first 
of arts. But, as this art accomplishes its end by 
methods easy and sure, as it is exposed to no dan- 
ger, and requires an exertion of the most common 
and ordinary powers, it is right that the more deli- 
cate arts, which demand talents, virtues, and the 
most refined acquirements, should meet with the 
highest encouragement. For this reason, therefore, 
the arts that administer to the first wants of life, 
will not be held in the greatest estimation, and in- 
deed they do not aspire to it. But inasmuch as it 
would be impolitic on the one hand to overrate 
them, so it would be unjust on the other, and repug- 
nant to the interests of humanity, to degrade them 
into contempt. 

Let your friend, my good Tiberius, be upon his 
guard against the approaches of this stupid disdain ; 
on the contrary, it will behove him to cherish, as 
the nurse of himself and of human kind, this too 
much despised, though excellent and beneficial 
branch of industry. It is just, in the arrangement 
of things, that the people should labour for the two 
other classes of society, which co-operate with them 
for the good of the whole, and contribute largely to 
the support of that power which forms the defence 
of the community. The earth was ordained to sup- 
ply the nurture of man ; and to those w T ho increase 
its fertility, the first maintenance is due ; this is jus- 



125 
tice to the husbandman ; and the state, in rating 
him to the charges of government, must be careful a 
to lay the tax upon his redundancies only. If the 
sole recompence of hard and unremitting labour were 
no more than the mere privilege of leading an un- 
desirable and wretched life, the cultivators of the 
earth could no longer be deemed a part of the poli- 
tical association, but would remain in a state of sla- 
very : their condition would be intolerable ; they 
would rush from their rank, turn order into anarchy, 
or else put a stop to the propagation of so many mi- 
serable beings, and so annihilate the rank itself. 

It must be allowed, said Justinian, that they are 
too much depressed ; but, happily, little is wanting 
to that race of men, inured as they are to penury 
and labour ! Beyond the excitements of appetite, 
and the first wants of nature, their ambition never 
rises ; let them have bread, and they have content 
along with it. 

To say the truth, my good neighbour, replied 
Belisarius, one would imagine that you had lived 
your days in courts, for you are master of the lan- 
guage. What you have now advanced rings for 
ever in the ears of a prince, that he may be the more 
readily induced to pillage his people, and that he 
may do it without remorse. The people, it is true, 
have not the inordinate wants which luxury has 
created in the higher ranks of life, and therefore they' 
are more likely to be reasonable in their complaints 

a This was the maxim of Henry IV. of France j and of 

ail good kings. 



126- 
and their demands. The more frugal and modest 
their way of life, the more sober and temperate their 
manners ; the stronger is the presumption, that, when 
they remonstrate their grievances, they do it with 
sufficient provocation. In the court dictionary, to 
want the necessaries of life, implies the want of 
ability to maintain twenty useless horses, and as many 
idle drones in livery : in the honest meaning of the 
simple husbandman, it is to want wherewithal to 
nourish a poor old father, bending under years and 
infirmities, to rear a little race of infants, whose fee- 
ble arms are yet unfit for work, and to comfort a 
virtuous wife, who is either breeding or nursing a 
new subject of the state ; it is, in plain rural lan- 
guage, to want these things, and to want, besides, 
the proper seeds to deposit in the ground, a well- 
stored granary against an hard season and a year 
of scarcity, and, in age and in sickness, the comforts 
and the succours which weary nature has occasion 
for. Oh ! my friends, is it not manifest that the 
fruits of agriculture are destined in the first place, 
and of justice due to those who labour to make the 
earth more productive ? The destination is holy, 
and should be kept more sacred and inviolable than 
all the treasure in the depositories of Janus. 

Alas! said the emperor, there are times of pub- 
lic calamity, when government may exert a dispens- 
ing power, and state-necessity is then the law which 
imposes new burdens and taxes on the people. 

It should be a case of the last extremity indeed, 
replied Belisarius ; every superfluity should be first 
brought into the common stock, all resources should 



127 
be exhausted, and no way left of saving the state but 
by the ruin of the people. That state-necessity I am 
a stranger to : the occasion for that dispensing power 
I have never seen 9 , But to represent things in their 
true point of light ; do you know where the mischief 
lies, that makes the honest husbandman groan in mi- 
sery ? It rests with that superior class, as it is called, 
who pass away the hours in idleness and riot ; by 
them the whole burden w is thrown upon honest in- 
dustry. They reap almost all the advantages of the 
civil union, and yet contribute the least to its sup- 
port ; they do nothing for the strength and dignity of 
the government, which gives them so much ease and 
enjoyment. They repay nothing for the benefits 
they receive, and yet in their case it seems a privi- 
ledged, an honourable insolvency. Let this abuse be 
altogether reformed ; let the necessary charge of go- 
vernment fall in just proportions upon every member 
of the community; let it be diffused through all or- 
ders of men, according to the means and abilities of 
each, and the burden will then be light and equi- 
table. 

What has not been attempted, said the emperor, 
in order to establish this just equality so much de- 

9 Marcus Aurelius, hi a pressing exigence, rather than 
overload the people with new taxes, sold the furniture of 
the imperial palace : Vasa aurea, uxoriam ac suam seri- 
cam et auream vestem, multa ornamenta gemmarum ; ac 
per duos menses venditio habita est. Aurel. Vict, 

10 Inveniuntur plurimi divitum, quorum tributa populos 
necant. Salv. lib. iv. 

Proprietatibus carent (pauperes) et vectigalibus, otauun- 
tur. Idem* lib, v. de Gub, DeL 



123 
sired 11 ? Have not the decurions, who were base 
enough, in the assessment of the cities committed to 
them, to over-rate some, in order to give undue ex- 
emptions to others I2 , been adjudged by the law to be 
burnt alive? 

Alas ! replied Belisarius, I know that little favour 
is shewn to those unhappy wretches. For not suffi- 
ciently grinding the face of the poor, they are laid 
in irons, unmercifully scourged, and buffeted, and 
persecuted, under the name of Justice, with every 
barbarity, till they envy even the lot of slaves I3 , 
But for the regents of provinces, for proconsuls, and 
other ministers, are there rods and dungeons ready ? 
And supposing there were, of what use are pains and 
penalties, while the mouth of Complaint is stopped, 
and the cries of Misery are suffocated ? Let laws 
abate of their severity, so they have a free course, 
and injured men are permitted to prosecute their 
legal remedy. 

The liberty to complain of grievances, said Justi- 
nian, has been the right of the people in all periods. 

It has so, replied Belisarius ; it is a constitutional 
right, but the exercise of it has depended upon the 
will and pleasure of subordinate tyrants. I4 Have not 
attempts been made to attach the persons of presi- 
dents and prefects, that cities and provinces might 
be at liberty to appeal to the court for a redress of 
injuries, in which those very men were either princi- 
pals or accomplices? And could any method be taken 

11 Cod. Leg. de Annon&. I: Cod. lib. i. de Censib, 

J 3 Traite de I'Orig. du gouv. Fr. M Traitede POng-da 

gouv. Fr. 






lape lid. 




IhtblLshed Sep.i8.i8oC. Try SaitcTierd&IetterrwmAveMai-ialcuu. 



129 
more sare of procuring impunity for the offenders ? 
The law directs its ministers I5 to prevent violence 
and exactions ; and those very ministers are the 
party accused. The law imposes a religious duty 
upon the governors of provinces l6 , to protect the 
weak from the oppression of the stronger ; and those 
very -governors have at once the means of oppressing, 
and even the power of doing it under the sanction of 
that very law which forbids them ll . The law defines 
the gross sum of the tax; but presidents and procon- 
suls make the assessment upon individuals l8 , and 
they never want sophistry to give a colour to thefr 
exactions. The law gives a right of citing the tools 
and little instruments of the governor before the go- 
vernor himself 19 ; but from this tribunal there lies no 
appeal Zo to the sovereign, and this, we are told, is 
grounded upon a maxim, that the prince raises none 
to that high station but men of approved wisdom 
and uprightness, who can do no wrong. But can- 
not the prince be deceived in his choice ? To trust 

15 lllicitas exactiones, et violentias factas, et extortas 
metu venditiones, &c. prohibeat praeses provincial PamL 
lib. i. tit. 18. 

x6 Ne potentiores viri humiliores injuriis afficiant, ad re- 
ligionem praesidis provincial pertinet. Ibid. 

*7 Qui universas provincias regunt, jus gladii habent. Ibid, 

«• Novell. 28. 

1 9 Det operam judex ut praetorium suum ipse componat. 
Cod. Theod. lib. i. tit. 10, 

20 Non potest k praefectis praetorio appellari. Credidit 
cnim princeps,eos, qui ob singularem industriam, explorate 
eorum fide, et gravitate, ad hujus officii magnitudinem ad- 
hibentur, non aliter judicaturos esse, pro sapientia ac lues 
dignitatis suae, quam ipse foret judicaturus. Pund* lib. k 
tit. 11. 



130 
the welfare of a whole people to the promised faith 
of one man, is a monstrous absurdity in government. 
Justinian was aware of this, and, to reform the abuse, 
re-established the pnetorship, with full power and in- 
structions to inquire into the conduct and depreda- 
tions of the governors Zl . But in doing this, he 
created a new order of tyrants, whose residence in 
the provinces gave aa opportunity to corruption to 
spread as it were by contagion, till they, who were 
meant to be the guardians of the people, became 
confederates in profligacy, and increased the number 
of vile usupers. Hence the impunity with which Vice 
lords it through the empire ; hence too the shame- 
ful imbecility of relaxed and ineffectual laws %z . 

What would you do in such a case, said the em- 
peror ? — I would listen, replied Belisarius, to the out- 
cries of the injured, and proud oppression should 
tremble for its guilt. 

There is, among the various institutions establish- 
ed by the princes of the empire, one that I reverence, 
and fervently wish to see enforced according to the 
true principles and spirit of its design. When in 
the number of persons, to whom the authority of go- 
vernment is delegated, I perceived a set of officers 
sent into the provinces 23 with special powers to hear 
the complaints of the people, in order to transmit a 

21 Ut praetor prohibeat exactores tributorum suscipere et 
exequi, mandata, qua? malo more k sede praefecti exeunt, 
de muris refieiendis, de viis sternendis, et aliis oneribus in- 
finitis. Novell. 24. 

22 Vide Pand. lib. xlviii. ; Leg. Jul. repetundarum y Leg. 
Jul. de aimoM; Leg. Jul. peculatus j Cod. Theod. lib. iv. 
tit. \Z. Cod. Just. lib. 1. de censib. 

2 3 They were called Cvriosi. 



131 

memorial of grievances to the emperor, I felt my 
heart expand with the spirit of humanity. My 
vows are offered up, my constant prayers, that the 
prince may give that important office all its weight 
and dignity ; that he may nominate to so glorious 
an employment his select and most virtuous friends, 
the men of approved integrity and honour ; that, 
amidst the awful pomp of religious ceremony, he 
may receive, at the foot of the altar, the solemn 
oath, by which the chosen patriots shall bind them- 
selves to their prince, their country, and their God, 
never to betray the interests of the weak and help- 
less, to the pride and arrogance of domineering 
spirits ; that he may each year depute this honest 
band as the guardians of our civil rights ; and that 
he may, as soon as their high commission is exe- 
cuted, recal them to his presence, lest corruption 
have time to tamper with their virtue. Were things 
in this train, what glorious effects might be ex- 
pected from such a visitation! The consequences 
are now before my eyes ! Behold, on the arrival of 
the just and upright man, how Liberty rears its head 
in the provinces, and smiles content ! how Tyranny 
and Oppression look abashed and tremble ! Behold 
the governors, the proconsuls, and their deputies, 
turn pale, and shrink at the tribunal of their judge, 
who is surrounded by a grateful assembly of the 
people, and hailed as their father and their avenger ! 
It is the complaint of kings, that the truth does not 
reach them ! But oh, my friends ! she endeavours to 
make her way to them, and even to break through 
their guards, in defiance of swords and peril. Yet 



A Cleveland newspaper recently advertised 
that it would send a copy free to any person 
sending a "club often." A young lady in the : 

country sent it the ten ppot of clubs. 

______ 



132 
how easy might the access be made ! It would not 
then be the seditious outcry of a tumultuous people, 
but the calm remonstrances of the wise and good, 
offering up, with respectful deference, at the foot of 
the throne, the supplications of humanity. How 
rare would be the flagrant outrages committed in the 
very name of the sovereign, if thus annually they 
were to undergo a severe and strict examination, 
while the sword of justice is ready in the sovereign's 
hand to fall on every guilty head ! 

Of all ranks in society, the military class is that 
where licentiousness and disorder are likely to pre* 
vail with impunity. But let discipline be enforced 
•with due rigour throughout the army ; let partiality 
never glide into the administration of justice ; and a 
few examples, such as Justinian has held forth to the 
world, will control the wildest and most daring 
spirits. 

To what example do you allude, said the empe- 
ror ? — You shall hear, replied Belisarius : it is, in my 
judgment, the brightest passage of his reign. The 
generals who commanded at Colchis had imbrued 
their hands in royal blood. The king of the Lazi- 
ans, even then in alliance with the emperor, was in- 
humanly murdered. Without delay Justinian sent 
Athanasius, one of the most distinguished senators, 
with instructions and full powers to hold an inquiry 
into the conduct of the delinquents, and, after a full 
hearing, to pronounce judgment, and see the sen~ 
tence of the law executed on the guilty. Athana- 
sius, who was now judge in the last resort, conducted 
this important business with all the pomp and solem- 



133 

nity the occasion required. On one of the smaller 
hills of Caucasus he fixed his tribunal, and there, in 
the sight of the Lazian army, the murderers of the 
king were beheaded. But commissions of this na- 
ture call for men superior to corruption, of which, in- 
deed, the number is miserably thinned by the weak 
and prostrate condition of the Senate. 

How ! said Tiberius, are you a zealot for that de- 
spotic order, those enemies of civil liberty, men of 
boundless arrogance in power, submissive to usurpa- 
tion, and ever ready to enslave, or to be enslaved ? 

When I bemoan the want of a Senate, replied Be- 
lisarius, I do not regret what it was ; I regret what 
it might have been. There is in every government 
a tendency to arbitrary power; for it is perhaps na- 
tural to man to set up his own will as a law to others. 
By their rigid behaviour, their inflexible pride, and 
domineering arrogance, the Senate made their ad- 
ministration odious ; and mankind, harassed out, 
began to conceive hopes that the government of one 
might prove more mild and equitable ; they pre- 
ferred it, therefore, to the tyranny of the few. The 
sovereign, thus established, grew jealously fond of 
the sole authority, and upon the ruins of the Senate 
he was determined to build up his prerogative. As 
he advanced in his encroachment, a panic seized 
the Senate, and the whole order crouched at once, 
with a meanness that exceeded even the wishes of 
the new master; even Tiberius blushed for their ser- 
vility 24 . But it is easy to conceive, that the Senate, 
when it lost the power of doing evil, might still re- 
*4 Tacit. Ann. lib. i. 



134 

tain that of rendering service to the public ; that it 
might give to government an air of constitutional au- 
thority ; and, being an intermediate order between 
the sovereign and the people, might connect and 
strengthen the whole force of the community. And 
yet it is not in this view that I regard the Senate. I 
consider it as a seminary of statesmen and of heroes, 
where at all times might be found a set of great and 
eminent characters, used alike to the sword and to 
the scales of justice, distinguished both in council 
and the field, and fully instructed how to give sup- 
port to government by salutary laws and military 
force. It is from that nursery of men, all trained to 
truth, to knowledge, and to virtue, that the sovereign 
would be always able to select his ministers, his ge- 
nerals, his governors, and his officers of every sort. 
Let there be occasion now for a man of principle, 
wisdom, and ability ; where is he to be found? How 
is he to be known? Where has he distinguished him- 
self? Must the fate of a whole people be risked be- 
fore he can have a decided character? Can a Regu- 
lus, a Fabius, or a Scipio, be formed by the new in- 
stitution of an imperial militia to do duty about the 
palace 2S ? Instead of a public career of emulation, 
where the soldiery is inured to the exercise of arms, 
where talents enter the lists, where virtue is called 
forth into open day-light, where the characters of 
men display themselves to the world, and the powers 
of genius are unfolded, and abilities press forward in 

25 This new-fangled order consisted of the civil magis- 
trate and the officers of the revenue. The Senate was 
merged in it by the policy of the emperors. 



I 



135 

the race of glory; instead of this bright school of ho- 
nour, all generous contention is suppressed; and em- 
ployments of dignity, that should be the reward of 
merit only, are now given as a compliment to the ac- 
cidental circumstances of birth, or partially dealt out 
by the hand of court favour. From this source 
spring all the evils, which, like a torrent, threaten to 
overwhelm the state, 

What would you advise, said the emperor? When 
men have degenerated into vice and profligacy ; 
when the whole race is degraded, and after painful 
endeavours to appoint for the best, nothing great or 
good can be separated from the general mass of the 
times ; judgment then may be weary of deliberating, 
and he who finds that he chooses only to err, may 
reasonably desire to wave the fatigue of thinking to 
no purpose. 

That is concluding too hastily, replied Belisarius ; 
though often baffled in the choice, yet the sovereign 
should not be discouraged. Total depravity never 
happens ; honest men are always to be found ; and 
if not found, they are to be made. They will be 
made, if the love of virtue, and penetration to dis^ 
tinguish it, form the character of the prince. Fare- 
well, my friends, the topic I have just started shall be 
discussed at our next meeting; and it will be no un- 
pleasing inquiry, if we find, as I think we shall, that 
to reform the worst abuses, depends upon the volition 
of a single man. 

Belisarius seems to rest every thing upon the 
weak, irresolute will of the prince, said Justinian to 
Tiberius : but can a mere act of the will bestow dis- 



136 
cernment, or ascertain a proper choice } Is he not 
aware of the false appearances under which men 
disguise themselves ? — That men will be born such 
as you choose they should, said Tiberius, as if nature 
were subject to political authority, is a proposition 
that embarrasses me much. Yet Belisarius has a 
large and comprehensive mind : his years and his 
misfortunes have opened to him many veins of re- 
flection, and it will be well worth while to listen to 
him. 



CHAP. XIII. 



\JN their arrival the following day they found Be- 
lisarius employed with his man Paulinus in the cul- 
tivation of his garden. Had you arrived, said he, a 
moment sooner, you would have learned, as I myself 
have done, an excellent lesson in the art of govern- 
ing ; for nothing bears so strong a resemblance to po- 
litical economy as the management of plants ; and 
my gardener, who is here at hand, reasons upon the 
matter like another Solon. 

As the emperor and Tiberius were walking a turn 
with the hero, the young man stated to hirn the se- 
veral reflections they had made, together with the 
reasons upon which they founded an opinion that he 
was wrong in his last proposition. 

It is too true, replied Belisarius, that a prince sur- 
rounded in his palace by a circle of courtiers and of 



137 
flatterers, will have but little knowledge of mankind; 
but what shall restrain him from breaking through 
the fence, from being communicative and easy of 
access ? Affability in a sovereign is an enquiry into 
that truth, which will be disguised by his slaves, but 
never withheld from him by the friend of the people, 
the honest husbandman, and the rough veteran soldier. 
From them he will hear the voice of the public; 
that voice which is the oracle kings ought to con- 
sult, the best, the unerring decider of merit and of 
virtue ! Let that oracle pronounce what men are 
fit for servants of the state, and an erroneous choice 
will seldom be made. To say the whole in a few 
words, the sovereign's attention ought to be directed 
only to two objects, which are, the counsellors of 
State, and the men who are to carry the plans of the 
cabinet into execution: if the former are fit for their 
high office, I will be responsible for the latter. The 
whole depends upon having near his person men 
worthy of their station. Theodoric had but one 
faithful adviser, the virtuous Cassiodorus ; and the 
glory of his reign is known to the universe. I will 
take upon me to say, that even at court there are 
not wanting infallible criterions of honour and fide- 
lity. Severity of manners, disinterested conduct, 
the honest firmness of truth, a generous ardour in the 
cause of innocence, unshaken constancy in friend- 
ship, a zeal for virtue that never veers about with the 
gales of fortune, and a reverence for the laws; these 
are the features of character by which a prince may 
know how to distinguish among men, and to deter- 
mine his choice. Would you know the token? 

H 



138 

which should make him proscribe men from hrs 
presence ? They are more legible and certain than 
the former ; for virtue may be counterfeit, but the 
character of vice is seldom acted. As soon as it ap- 
pears, you may believe it genuine. For example : 
If I were a king, the man who once should dare to 
talk with contempt of my people, with levity of the 
duties of my station, or should attempt to varnish 
with flattery the abuse of my prerogative, that man 
should never rank in the list of my friends. More- 
over, to an observant eye that marks the ways of the 
world, there are never wanting certain traces of cha- 
racter, which, through the veil of dissimulation, be- 
tray the habitual sentiment, and develope the in- 
ward man. I have heard much of the profound 
imposture of courtiers: but imposture is as well 
known as candour itself; and should the sovereign 
be imposed upon, the public voice will undeceive 
him. Let him therefore give his esteem and con- 
fidence to the worthy, and he will be sure to be 
properly informed in every deliberation : for truth 
and virtue will then sit at his council-board. 

But do you consider, said the emperor, what a 
number of the good and virtuous he will have occa- 
sion for, that the free course of justice and the dig- 
nity of his reign may be supported in their vigour? 
Where is he to find the men to complete so honour- 
able a list ? 

Human nature, replied Belisarius, will always 
supply him. Let sovereigns know how to use them, 
and she will never be defective. — And to direct 
that use, said Justinian, can there be a better rule 






139 

than that of wholesome and salutary laws ? — That 
will go a great way, replied Belisarius ; but it is not 
ail : the manners are not, in many instances, within 
the control of law. 

And how then, said Justinian, are inveterate ha- 
bits, to which time has given a kind of prescrip- 
tion, to be effectually changed ? 

My gardener will inform you, replied Belisarius. 
Here, Paulinus : When a noxious herb shoots up 
among your plants, what do you do? — I take it up 
by the root, answered the honest gardener. — But 
why, instead of weeding it, don't you lop it? — 
Why, it would sprout again, and there would be no 
end of the trouble : and besides, good Sir, it is at 
the root it sucks in the juices of the earth, and that 
it is our business to prevent. — You hear him, my 
friends, said Belisarius; he has given you an abridge- 
ment of the law. The law, it is true, retrenches^ 
as far as it is able, the crimes of society ; but the 
vices that give birth to those crimes are suffered to 
remain, whereas they ought to be weeded and torn 
up by the root. Nor is that an impracticable scheme : 
for all vices, at least those of the court, have one 
common root, and grow out of the same seed. — 
And what is that, pray ? said Tiberius. — Inordinate 
desire, replied Belisarius : and whether that desire 
be understood to import avarice, that loves to hoard, 
or rapacity, that delights in squandering ; there is 
nothing sordid and unworthy but what springs from 
that source. Inhumanity, fraud, treachery, ingra- 
titude, envy, malice, and all the vices that make 
the gradation to the highest iniquity, are modes' of 



140 

the same depravity of heart, that breaks out in every 
species of meanness and of pride. It goes on in a 
course of depredation upon mankind, and, with the 
spoils of the weak, pampers itself in riot, voluptuous 
enjoyment, and every sort of profligacy and corrup- 
tion. Thus the love of riches infects the whole sys- 
tem of the manners. Does it kindle ambition? Per- 
fidy and fraud are mingled w T ith what otherwise 
might be a noble passion. Is courage ever grafted 
upon covetousness ? From the stock on which it 
grows, even courage shall derive the pernicious qua- 
lities that debase it into a vice. The most brilliant 
talents are by avarice tinged with the stain of vena- 
lity ; and the soul, which is enslaved by it, is for 
ever set up to auction, to be bought by the highest 
bidder. 

From this source, this fatal desire of amassing 
wealth, spring all the crimes that disturb the com- 
munity. Of this vice, whose tyranny afflicts the 
universe, Luxury is the parent ; for, to make its 
genealogy clear, Luxury engenders various wants : 
by these Avarice is begot, and Avarice, to gratify 
her purposes, is obliged to league with Oppression. 
From hence it is clear, that to lay the axe to the 
root of the mischief, we must begin with Luxury : 
there must commence the grand revolution in the 
manners. 

But that, said the emperor, will be to wage war 
with an hydra ; one head is struck off, and thou- 
sands grow in its room. To use a comparison more 
analogous ; Luxury is a Proteus, which is never to 
be chained, but eiudes the touch in different shapes. 



141 

1 will go farther, said the emperor : the causes and 
the effects of luxury, its connections and its interests, 
form a system so compounded of good and evil, 
that, were it possible to restrain or to destroy it, I 
should much doubt whether the former would be 
endured, or the latter prove in the end an advan- 
tage to the state. 

I grant you, replied Belisarius, that luxury in 
the state is like a set of wicked and evil men, who 
have intrenched themselves in great connections : 
measures are kept with them in the beginning, on 
account of their party ; but, in the end, they are 
ordered into confinement, as enemies of the state. 
I shall not, however, go so far. Let us set out with 
facts, which I myself have seen. Luxury, it has 
been said, is of use in capital cities. I do not be- 
lieve the position : but, be that as it may, in a 
camp I am sure it is pernicious. When Pompey 
observed the soldiers of Caesar living upon roots that 
grew wildly in iha fields, " They are/' said he, " an 
<e herd of brute beasts ;" he should have said, 
" They are men." The primary quality of a ge- 
neral is to hazard his life ; the second, to circum- 
scribe his passions and his wants within the bounds 
of reason and of nature ; and this last, to the man 
enervated by voluptuous indolence, will be a task 
of the most difficult self-denial. The people that 
shall endeavour, amidst the rough scenes of war, to 
enjoy the softer delicacies of peace, will strive to 
reconcile two things wholly incompatible, and will 
aeither be able to bear prosperity, nor the reverses 



142 

of fortune. To be victorious will not answer their 
purpose ; they must riot in abundance ; and should 
that happen not to be the consequence, even vic- 
tory will lose its charms. The camp where fruga- 
lity and sober manners prevail, will be full of spirit 
and manly vigour ; it will be, as I may say, on the 
wing ; while the army which is dissolved in luxury 
grows sluggish, dastardly, and inactive. By tem- 
perance all the advantages of inward strength and 
outward resource are managed and secured ; and, 
on the other hand, they are all thrown away by pro- 
digality, till at length desolation, famine, pale dis- 
may, and shameful flight, conclude the war with in- 
famy and disgrace. To the people softened by effe- 
minacy, every enterprise appears above their strength ; 
the principle of valour may remain, but the power 
of executing is gone ; and the enemy that knows 
how to harass and fatigue, need not endeavour to 
vanquish : the delays of war will have the efficacy 
of so many battles. 

Nor does the whole mischief of luxury consist in 
wasting the vigour of the body; it strikes corruption 
to the very soul. The man of wealth and affluence, 
who leads pleasure and luxury in his train, diffuses 
a contagion through the camp ; and the soldier of 
fortune, ashamed to be outdone by his equal in the 
army, becomes his competitor in profligacy, and, 
for a shew of vain-glory, incurs real dishonour. To 
riches and splendor of appearance, esteem is of- 
fered up as a tribute ; while poverty falls into con- 
tempt, and sober virtue is abashed by ridicule* 



143 
Then farewell to all ; there can be no deeper perdi- 
tion. This, my friends, is not a fictitious account of 
luxury ; it is the history of what I have seen. 

I know full well, said Tiberius, that you banished 
it from your armies; pray inform me how that was 
accomplished. — Without any kind of difficulty, re- 
plied Belisarius ; I cashiered it from my own tent, 
aud made it appear throughout the ranks in a con- 
temptible light. Against the venom of pride, con- 
tempt is a powerful antidote. I had learned that a 
young Asiatic had ushered into my camp the sgft 
indigencies of his native clime ; that he reposed 
himself under a purple pavilion, and drank out of 
golden goblets ; that his table smoked with the 
rarest dishes, and sparkled with the most exquisite 
wines. I invited him to dine with me, and, in the 
presence of his comrades, Young man, said J, you 
see we live here upon homely fare; we are often 
worse served, and it is what we have to expect : 
for in the race of glory it is our lot very often to 
want bread. Your delicacy, take my word for it, 
will meet frequent disappointments in this hardy 
course of life, and therefore I would advise you to 
take your leave of the army. He received this re- 
proach with due sensibility, made an apology for 
his conduct, and discharged his retinue. — And was 
that admonition sufficient? interposed Tiberius. — 
Without doubt it was, replied Belisarius ; for my 
own example gave weight to my precepts: and, be- 
sides, the character of irresolution never belonged 
to me.-^— But surely this severity of life must have 
occasioned great complaints! — When the law is 



144 

equal and expedient, it is obeyed without murmur- 
ing. — Very true; but to be humbled to the level 
of the poor, must have been an hardship upon the 
rich man. — That may possibly be the case ; but, to 
counterbalance that inconvenience, it was agreeable 
to the poor man to see the rich undistinguished ; 
and the poor, in all quarters of the world, are the 
greatest party. — Yes ; but in courts the rich have 
♦he strongest influence. — They have so, and they 
revenged themselves by my ruin : and yet, far 
from repenting, I should act in the very same man- 
ner again ; for the vigour of the soul, like that of 
the body, is the result of temperance. Without 
temperance, there is nothing generous and disin- 
terested; and, without disinterestedness, not a single 
virtue. I enquired of a shepherd one day why his 
dogs were fo faithful : Because, said he, they live on 
bread. Had they been nourished with flesh, they 
would be no better than wolves. I was much struck 
with this reply. In general, the surest way to con* 
trol the progress of vice, is to retrench the wants 
occasioned by evil habits. — All this is practicable in 
an army, said the emperor, but merely visionary, 
nay impossible, in a state. Between civil institutions 
and military law, there is a wide difference : by the 
latter, liberty is much abridged, and fettered with 
strict limitations. No law whatever restrains a mem- 
ber of society from enriching himself by fair and 
honest means ; and when wealth is acquired, no law 
can divest him of the right of disposing of it, or 
prevent a quiet enjoyment of his property. It is 
the fruit of his industry, his labour, and his talents, 



145 : 
or it was transmitted to him by his ancestors. He 
is at liberty to dissipate, or to gratify his avarice by 
concealing his treasure. — I subscribe to what you 
say, said Belisarius. — I go still farther, continued 
the emperor: if the riches of the community are 
engrossed by a particular class of men, it is fit that 
they should be diffused, and that labour and in- 
dustry should derive their share from the hand of 
idleness. — I concur with you in that also, said the 
hero.— I will add, resumed Justinian, that sensua- 
lity, ostentation, splendor of appearance, the caprices 
of taste, the coquetry of fashion, the refinements of 
effeminacy, and the whims of vanity, are all little 
blemishes in the manners, which the policy of every 
state connives at, and of which, without a degree 
of tyranny, no law can take cognizance. — Heaven 
forbid, said Belisarius, that I should desire to bring 
down the weight of law upon matters of this sort * 
— Now then, you see, continued the emperor, that 
luxury stands protected by all that is held sacred 
and inviolable amongst men ! by liberty, by the 
Tights of property, and, I may add, public utility. — 
I agree to all, said Belisarius, except that last point. 
—To clear that from objections, said the prince, 
you will allow that luxury animates the arts, and 
bids them thrive and flourish ; that it encourages 
industry, and excites a spirit of activity and emula*- 
tion, offering to the habit of indolence, and the love 
of idleness, new incentives of desire, artificial wants, 
and studied gratifications. 

I allow, said Belisarius, that luxury, for those who 
have been addicted to it, has its allurements, and 

H 2 



146 

that it is profitable to the men who study to heighten 
those allurements, and gratify desire: that the law 
should leave that commerce free and open, I like- 
Wise admit. Ts not this what you contend for ? 

I contend for something farther, replied the em- 
peror ; I maintain, that the influence of luxury, by 
progressive degrees, diffuses itself through every class 
of the community, even down to those who work and 
labour. It is beneficial to them; for it opens a vent 
for their commodities, and yields a quick return for 
their industry. 

It is upon this point, said Belisarius, that appear- 
ances mislead you ; for that which comes to the 
share of the labouring man from the hand of prodi- 
gality, only reverts back to the original owner : it 
was first taken from him by avarice; and if it return 
to him, it is because luxury cannot prevent it. Re- 
cal to mind the idea, which I formerly suggested, of 
the primitive state of society : what is the end ft has 
in view? Is it not to render man useful to man? And 
in that system, is not the right which one man has 
Xo the labours of another founded on reciprocal con- 
ditions? If so, what must be said of him who em- 
ploys -thousands to answer the multiplicity of his 
wants, without contributing, on his part, to the ser- 
vice of others ? He is like a sterile and pernicious 
herb that grows to seed in a field of wheat. Such 
is the rich man who loiters his days in idleness and 
luxury. For him, the busy part of society are at 
work ; and with a cold disregard he receives the 
products of their labour, as a tribute due to him. 
To supply his desire, and administer to his pleasures. 



147 
seems the employment of all nature; the elements, 
the most exquisite viands, the arts, and the choicest 
efforts of invention, are all his. He partakes of all, 
ami is unconducive himself to any useful end. He 
engrosses from the public service a number of hands 
•for his own purposes. He does the duty of none, 
and dies at test without leaving any void, but that of 
the good things he has consumed. 

I am not clear as to this point, said Tiberius; for 
it seems to me that he is not altogether so great an 
incumbrance as you imagine. For if he does not 
throw the fruits of his own talents into the general 
fund, if he does not impart to the public his own 
activity and powers, yet he circulates his money, 
and that does full as well. 

Hold, my young friend, said Belisarius; money is 
. a mere symbol of valuation, a general standard, de- 
noting the worth of the thing we receive, and a 
pledge for the return of it. It answers the purposes 
of mutual commerce, and gives facility to the traffic 
between man and man: but he who, in the course 
of that traffic, gives only the symbol, and never 
parts with the reality, breaks the true law of com- 
mutation, in order to possess himself of that for 
which he never pays in kind. The pawn which he 
.deposits, dispenses with the contract, instead of 
binding it closer. Let the magistrate keep painful 
'vigils for the public safety ; let the soldier fight the 
battles of his country, and let the husbandman and 
artificer work incessantly ; the right of the rich man 
to their joint services is annually renewed, and 



148 
his privilege to be insignificant is stamped upon his 
gold. 

In this manner, said Tiberius, the world is hired 
in the service of opulence. — It is so, my young 
friend, continued Belisarius ; and the rich man is at 
no other trouble than that of paying in the detail to 
the whole community the wages of their servitude, 
—But should there be such a state of servitude? 
inquired Tiberius. Why should any government 
endure these men of overgrown opulence? — Be- 
cause, replied the hero, the law secures to every 
individual the possession of the property he has 
acquired ; and nothing can be so justly acquired as 
the fruit of labour, industry, and knowledge. With 
the liberty of acquiring, the right of possessing is 
naturally connected ; and property, as well as liber- 
ty, is a civil right not to be violated \ It is, without 
doubt, an evil, that the opulent should have it in 
their power to throw the whole load of their own 
existence, and that of their train, upon the commu- 
nity ; but it would be a more crying evil, were the 
principles of emulation suppressed, and industry 
divested of a secure title to its possessions. Let 
us therefore not complain of incurable evils. As 
long as there are degrees of activity, industry, and 
economy, there will also be degrees of happiness 

i A philosopher at Athens found a treasure that had been 
hid in his ground. He wrote to the emperor Trajan, " I 
nave found a treasure." Trajan answered, that he had no- 
thing to do but to enjoy it. " It is too much for a philoso- 
pher to use," replied the other. Then make a wrong use of 
it, said the prince. Alexander Severus thought the same. 



149 

and inequality in the conditions of mankind. Tlte 
more flourishing the state, the more striking will 
that inequality be ; and yet, to level those condi- 
tions, is a power that no legislature will usurp. 

Let us avow, then, said the emperor, that luxury 
has its use ; for it tends, by its wants and its ex- 
pences, to compound with the public for the very 
inequality complained of. In other words, luxury 
exhausts its own riches, and bids them flow among 
the people. — I acknowledge it, replied Belisarius, 
riches should have as many vents as possible through 
which to diffuse themselves abroad. I do not mean 
to argue, that the man of affluence should be obliged 
to hoard his riches, or that any rule of policy should 
prescribe the use to be made of them. The law, I 
have already said, should content itself with charg- 
ing the public with the necessities of government : 
farther than this it should not go ; the rest of every 
man's acquisition should be left unexcised, in such 
manner that the state should draw its necessary sup- 
plies from the superfluity of its subjects. Opinion 
will do the rest. — Opinion ! said the emperor. — 
Yes, opinion, replied Belisarius: that, and that only, 
without constraint and violence, will arrange all 
things in their proper order; and it is thence alone 
that we are to expect a revolution in the manners. 

A revolution of this sort appears difficult to you : 
but it depends entirely upon the will and the exam- 
ple of the sovereign. Let him be equal and impar- 
tial to merit ; let the man of modest reserve and 
simplicity of manners be sure of the best reception 
at court ; let the prince proclaim his contempt of 



150 

ostentatious- expence and emasculating luxuries ; 
let him behold, with an eye of disdain, the slaves of 
luxury ; let him view with regards of cheerfulness 
and respect the men who labour for the public good ; 
and the court will soon take the tone of simple man- 
ners, ennobled by wisdom and frugality. Ostenta- 
tion will no longer be honourable; it will not even 
be decent. A becoming austerity of life will take 
the place of licentiousness ; every thing frivolous 
will give way to wisdom ; personal merit will be 
the best letter of recommendation, and pomp and 
vSnity will be left to the empty pleasures o/ self- 
applause. Oh ! my friends ! how rapid would be 
their fall ! You know how docile and imitative the 
metropolis is ; how easy to be moulded to the ex- 
ample of the court ! That which grows into esteem 
s soon in fashion. The good old frugality once 
restored, disinterestedness would follow, and bring 
in her train heroic manners. The man of ability to 
be useful, perceiving inordinate desires no longer in 
vogue, and freed from the debasing wants of luxury, 
would soon find the sentiments of honour taking 
root in his heart ; the love of his country, and an 
ardour for glory, would warm the breast of freedom, 
and emulation would kindle up its generous flame. 
Alas ! did the sovereign know his ascendant over 
the minds of men, with what facility he can mould 
them to his will, he would enjoy it as his sweetest 
power, his best and most respectable prerogative ; 
and yet it is the only regal attribute of which he is 
entirely ignorant. 

By what influence, said Justinian, shall the sove* 



151 
reign be able to control a taste for amusement, the 
love of pleasure, and the lust of money ! Of what con- 
sequence is it to him, whose every sense is intoxi- 
cated with voluptuousness, whether the court ap- 
proves or censures his conduct? Wjll the prince be 
able to restrain the man, whose power of wealth is 
great, from making his own use of the industrious? 
Can he hinder him from being encompassed with 
delights? from making the arts subservient to his 
gratifications ? — No, replied Belisarius : but, if it be 
agreeable to the sovereign, he can brand effeminacy 
with shame, and indolence with contempt : he can 
exclude dissipation, vice, and incapacity, however 
wealthy, from the first offices of the state. It will 
depend upon him, to make the true comforts of life, 
and every rational enjoyment, the sure attendants 
of a good and respectable character : he can give 
them to merit, and he can, moreover, take from 
luxury all Its pride and ostentation, till it feels itself 
the object of contempt. This will almost complete 
the work ; for when luxury is thus reduced, ho- 
nesty will no longer be depressed, nor will virtue 
suffer indignity. There will be other rewards, of 
which riches can never be the substitute. The 
esteem of the public, dignities, and honours, will be 
the price of merit. Gold will not be able to cover 
over shame and infamy ; and the little spirit will 
flutter in vain in pomp and splendid ornament. Be- 
lieve me, my good friends, take pride from luxury, 
and you disarm it. Ail its refined sensations are 
affected ; it subsists entirely upon the opinion man- 

The times are hard, wife, and I find it difficult 
to keep ray nose above water." " You could 
easily keep your nose above water, husband, if 
you didn't keep it so often above brandy." 



152 

kind entertains of its gaiety and happiness. Sub- 
due that opinion, and you reduce riches to their 
true standard. If they aspire to honour and real 
value, they must be ennobled by the use made of 
them. It is impossible for luxury to be generous ; 
avarice grows upon its wants; and that very avarice 
is compounded of all the passions that are usually 
hired for money. But if the most ardent passions, 
such as pride, ambition, and love itself, (for love 
always is in the train of pomp and vain-glory), are 
no longer attached to magnificence and ostentation, 
you may then compute how the estimate of luxury 
is diminished, and avarice loses of its force. 

The real advantages of wealth, such as conve- 
nience, accommodation, the delights of affluence, 
quiet, independence, and that superiority which for- 
tune claims over those who are retained in its ser- 
vice ; all these are more than sufficient to strike a 
deep impression upon little minds ; insomuch that I 
am far from hoping or fearing the downfal of arts, 
which have luxury for their support. 

But let distinctions and honours be once disjoined 
from wealth, and then the souls which nature has 
endowed with energy and spirit, with exalted virtues 
and generous passions, will look down with disdain 
upon the petty enjoyments of vanity, and will seek 
elsewhere the rewards of fame and honour. 

The glare of affluence, said Tiberius, will never 
be eclipsed, in an opulent and flourishing state, by 
the frugal system of barren and unprofitable ho- 
nours. The eyes of mankind are dazzled by the 



153 
lustre of wealth ; and dignities, nay, majesty itself, 
are obliged to borrow thence their most striking de- 
corations. 

I should be glad to know, replied Belisarius, of 
two eminent men, which, according to your ideas, 
gave the greatest dignity and even majesty to the 
Roman senate, the rich Lucullus, or the indigent 
Cato ? The question quite overpowered Tiberius. I 
allude now, continued the hero, to an era of luxury ; 
and yet, in that very period, with what veneration 
did the sound uncorrupted part of the common- 
wealth (I mean the people) recal to their minds the 
days of ancient simplicity, when Rome was free, 
virtuous, and poor ; when the lands of her scanty 
territory were tilled by the conqueror's hand, and 
the plough was crowned with triumphant laurel I 
Let us do justice to the people, and rest assured that 
a wise sovereign, encircled with warriors and with 
patriots void of arrogance, but full of years and 
honours, will exhibit to his people a more respect- 
able and honourable scene, than a prince dis- 
solved in luxury, and surrounded by a train of glit- 
tering vassals. It is a maxim ever inculcated by 
persons in high offices, that, to strike the public 
with ideas of dignity, their rank ought ever to be 
adorned with pomp and magnificence. They are 
generally both superinduced ; but they resemble a 
coat, whose amplitude serves to cover the defects of 
the body ; and this furnishes us with an additional 
reason, why the whole wardrobe of outward shew 
and splendor, which thus disguises men, and con- 
founds the judgment, should be totally thrown aside. 



1 54 

When Virtue displays itself to the public eye, like 
a wrestler in the amphitheatre, her form and vigour 
will be better distinguished ; and if Vice, Incapa- 
city, and Meanness, ever presume to enter the lists, 
they will stand more confessed to view, and will the 
sooner be covered with confusion. 

It is another advantage resulting from simple 
manners in eminent stations, that the burden of re- 
warding merit is made lighter to the public, and 
the state makes a saving of expences, that would be 
rendered ruinous by the insatiable rapacity of am- 
bition. A sensible distribution of honours will dis- 
pense with the necessity of magnificent presents ; 
and frugality, even in the grant of honours, will 
make the prince still a better economist for the 
public good. That is the great end he should have 
in view. To restrain the rich from launching into a 
profusion of expence, is not the point ; prodigality 
is a fire that soon consumes the materials it subsists 
upon. The prime object is to preserve the men, 
who, unprovided with every thing but their talents, 
their knowledge, and their virtues, may be inclined 
to consecrate themselves to the service of their 
country, from being tainted by the sweets of luxury, 
and corrupted by the lust of gold. The brightest 
distinctions, such as are never profaned by sordid 
misapplications, should be reserved for persons of 
their temper and genius. I can say of myself, that 
I served my prince with all due zeal, and with con-' 
siderable success ; and my own feelings inform me 
how vile a thing is gold, when compared with the 
oaken branch and the laurel, those sweet remem- 



155 

brancers of the sovereign's affection and esteem. 
Moreover, that esteem, which is so grateful to the 
honest heart, especially when seconded- by the voice 
of public approbation, the prince will do well to 
reserve for actions of real worth and utility, taking 
care, with a calm dignity of resolution, never to 
prostitute them for undertakings vain in their na- 
ture, frivolous, or dangerous. That will be his true 
frugality. To maintain this properly, it will indeed 
demand a firm unshaken constancy of mind ; a spi- 
rit of justice always on its guard against seduction 
or surprise ; a determination of the will that never 
fluctuates, but checks even a rising hope that it 
will soften into compliance. This great and digni- 
fied character will be acquired, nay, it will be sup- 
ported, if a real love of virtue animate the sove- 
reign's breast. In that case, his opinion will be the 
opinion of the public, and his example will decide 
and fix the national character. 

Shall I fairly own, said Tiberius, a difficulty that 

I remains with me? At the rate you have gone on, 
the court, from whence the royal favour, intrigue, 
and luxury are discarded, will grow rather serious 
and gloomy ; and possibly then, a young prince— 
Oh ! I understand you ; that the prince may want 
amusement, is your fear. But, my dear friend, I 
have not said that the task of governing is a mere 
pastime : and yet, even amidst the solicitudes of 
royalty, there may be many hours of the sweetest 
enjoyment. The minister, for instance, may report 
to him the progress of agriculture in places and pro- 
vinces, which before were melancholy scenes of 



156 
idleness, poverty, and distress. May he not then" 
say to himself, An act of my will has now made 
millions happy? His sages of justice may inform 
him, that by one of his laws, the inheritance of an 
orphan has been wrested from the griping hand of 
hard-hearted avarice. May he not say with exulta- 
tion, Heaven be praised ! I have been the protector 
of the poor? From the war-office, he will not re- 
ceive consolations of so pure and unmixed a nature. 
But, when he is told with what zeal and generous 
ardour his faithful subjects shed their blood in the 
cause of their sovereign and their country, regret 
and pity will so compound themselves in mixed 
sensations of love, tenderness, and gratitude, that 
the tears of humanity will delight him. In short, 
the vows and prayers of his own illustrious era, and 
the blessings of future ages, which the conscious 
imagination will anticipate, all crowd together in 
his breast, and are the solid pleasures of a sovereign. 
And will not these suffice? Will there be still a void 
left aching in his bosom ? Like the kings of Persia 
in ancient times, he may visit the provinces of his 
empire, distinguishing with his favours those who 
promote industry and agriculture, plenty and popu- 
lation ; while pride, inhumanity, and indolence, for 
working the contrary mischiefs, will be sure to meet 
the marks of his displeasure. At Byzantium, as 
well as at Rome, the public granaries have been 
visited by the emperors : would it be a degrading 
condescension, if they made a progress into the coun- 
try, to know with certainty, that, under the lowly 
roof of the peasant, bread has not been wanting for 



157 

his helpless children? Alas! how uninstructed must 
that prince be, in regard to his duty and his interest, 
who suffers a vacuity in his time ! We must not 
imagine that a prince, in his moments of tranquil- 
lity, when he is detached from the cause and duties 
of his rank, is to remain a stranger to the sweet sen- 
sations of domestic happiness and social pleasure. 
He will have his select friends ; and, unbending 
himself with them, he will taste the charm of ra- 
tional delight. The man of virtue, who wants little, 
and is therefore easily contented, displays in his 
conversation that serenity of sober joy, which springs 
from peace and inward harmony : that heartfelt 
ease, to which pride importuned by craving wants, 
and vice for ever suffering the corrosions of remorse, 
are utter strangers. An honest mind, it must be ac- 
knowledged, will find but little leisure to relax itself 
from the duties of an important office; but the mo- 
ments of vacation will be delightful. Remorse, 
ambition, and fear, are banished from the hallowed 
hour. The court where uprightness, truth, and 
virtue may walk secure, without fearing envy, that 
lies in ambush, and without apprehending sudden 
disgrace from the whim of the prince, will not per- 
haps be the most brilliant court, but it will be the 
happiest in the world. — It will not be crowded, said 
the emperor. — And why not? resumed Belisarius. 
The little ambitious fry, that love to shine in ease 
and splendid vanity, will not flutter in the circle ; 
but, to recompense that loss, men of probity and of 
useful talents will form a numerous party. I say 
numerous, my friend Tiberius, and I say it i» 



158 

honour of human nature. When virtue is in 
fashion, the seeds of it will be disclosed in every 
heart. Public estimation is a kind of sun in the 
moral world, that warms, that animates, and calls 
forth the latent principles of truth and honour. 
When the soul is sunk in sloth and languor, it is 
not then the time to delineate its true character. Js 
it to be expected, that a young man, who has heard 
nothing from his father but the panegyric of money ; 
whose imagination has been dazzled with the lustre of 
gold; who in cities and in villages has seen nothing so 
abject and despised as labour and industry ; who has 
been taught by experience that pride can creep, 
that ambition will crouch, that law will bend, the 
road to honours be thrown open, and court-favour 
dispense its smiles at the beck and command of 
riches; that they, and they only, can protect him 
from injustice, or exercise the severest tyranny: that 
they adorn and embellish vice, ennoble meanness, 
and supersede talents, ability, and virtue ; is it to 
be expected, I say, that a young man, educated in 
this train of thinking, shall be able to draw the line 
between good and evil, virtue and self-interest ? Let 
a different doctrine prevail ; let the sovereign, that 
fountain of the manners, set the fashion of the heart ; 
let education and habits of virtue teach the value, 
the necessity of self-approbation ; let them awaken 
the love of honest fame, and a desire to win the ap- 
plause of good men; let the soul expatiate abroad, 
to gather the suffrages of the present age, and to 
forestal the praise of future times ; let fair renown 
be, next to virtue, the highest and greatest good ; 



i59 

let zeal for the moral character make honour dearer 
than life, and shame more dreadful than even anni- 
hilation ; let these principles be once established, 
and it will soon be found how feeble is the influence 
of sordid views, and mean desires. Oh ! my good 
friends ! where would now be the names of Decius, 
Regulus, and the Catos, had they not been souls of 
fire, inspired by honour, and replete with virtue ? 
To excite an emulation of their example, there 
must be an institution founded in wisdom, and real 
encouragement, to make men run the bright career 
of glory. It were vain and idle to require of the 
fathers of families, that they shalL train up their 
children in the paths of virtue, if that very virtue 
be left to languish under disgrace, and bear the 
spurns of triumphant vice. To re-establish order, 
and give the manners the strength and beauty of 
system, all that is good in life must be appropriated 
to virtue ; evil should be the portion of iniquity, 
and every advantage assigned to justice and to ho- 
nour. Let government proceed thus systematically, 
and it will readily strike your observation, how the 
manners will second the laws, and gain strength and 
enforcement from the popular opinion. Hopes and 
fears, rewards and punishments, dignities and dis- 
grace, those are the engines that policy should set 
in motion on the side of virtue and civil liberty; by 
managing these properly, the world may be go- 
verned at discretion. 

But to keep more closely to the point ; by proud 
and ostentatious manners the great are rendered in* 
soleut and avaricious ; from simple manners spring. 



160 
the opposite qualities of moderation, justice, and 
humanity ; and thus the leading interests of vice 
being listed on the side of virtue, men will adopt 
the latter with the same spirit that attached them to 
the former. 

You have given us a pleasing reverie, said Justi- 
nian, an agreeable and flattering dream! — Far from 
it, replied Bellsarius ; to think of making interest 
and self-Jove the springs of human actions, is by no 
means a dream. Call to mind by what methods 
was formed, in the infancy of the republic, that glo- 
rious senatorial order, in which so many ardent vir- 
tues, such heroic patriotism, blazed forth upon the 
world. To what, think you, was it owing ? It was 
because there was nothing at Rome superior to 
greatness of soul 2 ; it was because public veneration 
was attached to virtuous manners, and glory was 
the hero's sure reward. Such, in all periods of the 
world, have been the great springs and movers of 
the human heart. 

1 am not now to learn, that inveterate habits, and 
particularly the habits of despotic pride, give way 
unwillingly to the most powerful motives. But let 
it be observed, that for one son of profligacy and 
corruption, who would hold out with obstinacy, in 
spite of shame, disgrace, and infamy, there are a 
thousand who would yield at once to the control 
of reason, and, having glqry for their excitement, 
would walk contentedly in the paths of honour and 
of virtue. Let me pursue the consequences of this 

2 Dum nullum fastiditur germs, in quo eniteret virtu?, 
crevit iroperium Roinanum. Liv, lib. iv. 



161 

idea. I suppose that men of virtue are placed at 
the helm of government. I will, in that case, an- 
swer with my life for the prompt obedience, the 
fidelity, and the public spirit of a people, who are 
no longer bent under the yoke of oppression, but 
instead of being harassed by little tyrants, find their 
lives, their property, and their liberty, secure under 
the protection of the laws. The state then begins to 
raise its head ; concord prevails through all classes 
of the community ; the plan of Constantine, built 
on a sandy bottom, lays a deeper foundation ; and 
from civil union 1 see spring up emulation, fortitude, 
zeal for the public good, and, with these, that weight 
among the nations, which made Rome the mistress 
of the world 1 

While Belisarius thus discoursed, Justinian beheld, 
in silent admiration, the enthusiastic ardour with 
which the good old man, forgetting the infirmities 
of age, his miseries, and his misfortunes, triumphed 
in the idea of rendering his country flourishing and 
happy. It is generous, said the emperor, to feel 
so warm a concern for an ungrateful people.— My 
friends, replied the hero, I should welcome and 
bless, as the most glorious of my life, the day on 
which I should be thus accosted: "Belisarius, we 
u are going now to let your blood gush at every 
" vein ; but the price of it will be the accomplish- 
** ment of all your wishes." 

His amiable daughter, Eudoxa, now came to in- 
form him that his supper was ready. He went in, 
and set himself at table. Eudoxa, with a graceful 
air of modesty and dignity, served up to her father a 

I 



162 
plate of pulse, and seated herself by him. And is 
that your supper ? said the emperor. — It is, replied 
Belisarius ; it was the frugal meal of Fabricius ; and 
Fabricius was, at least, my equal, 

Let us depart, said Justinian to Tiberius ; at a 
sight like this I find myself covered with shame and 
confusion. 

The court, in hopes of dissipating the cloud which 
they perceived hung over the emperor's mind, had 
prepared a scene of festivity. He did not conde- 
scend to honour it with his presence. At table, the 
idea that occupied his thoughts, was the supper of 
the old general ; and, as he withdrew, Belisarius is 
happier than I am, said he to himself; for he lays 
him down on his pillow, without remorse to break 
his quiet. 



CHAP. XIV. 

I LIVE but in his presence, said the emperor next 
day to Tiberius, as they were on their way to visit 
the hero ; the composure and serenity of his mind 
transfuse themselves into mine. But as soon as I 
leave him, the clouds, which in his conversation 
were dispersed, collect themselves again, and the 
former gloom returns upon me. Methought yes- 
terday, I perceived in his delineation of manners 
and principles, the portrait of human happiness ; 
and now it is a canvass presenting an assemblage of 
bold and random colours, without arrangement or 
design. While he speaks, every thing appears easy; 



163 
and now I am involved in a scene of difficulties. 
In the first place, overloaded as the empire is with 
immoderate expences, the hero's scheme for making 
the burden lighter to the poor ! — his plan for new- 
modelling, upon a better establishment, an army 
well nigh annihilated by a war of twenty years ! — 
and then the multiplicity of taxes to be reduced to 
one general impost, light and simple ! — He has 
seen the subject in all its points of view, said Tibe- 
rius, and will, I dare say, remove your difficulties. 
Acquaint him with the reflections that have occurred 
to you. 

The conversation was accordingly opened with a 
state of the emperor's reasonings ; and after hearing 
them attentively, I knew, said Belisarius, that I 
should start in your mind a number of doubts ; 
but I flatter myself T shall be able to remove them 
all. 

The expences of the court, according to my plan, 
are now reduced. We have banished luxury and 
favouritism. Let us now take a view of the metro- 
polis ; and pray tell me the reason why such a swarm 
of inhabitants, lazy, indolent, and almost without 
number, should be a burden to the state? The corn 
which is distributed among them would maintain 
twenty legions- 1 . It was in order to people the 

1 40,000 bushels per day : the bushel, ?nodius, one foot 
square, and four inches deep. The Roman foot was ten of 
our inches. The allowance of the soldier was five bushels a 
month, or the sixth of a bushel per day : therefore 40,000 
bushels, at six men to a bushel, would maintain 240,000 
men. 



164 
city; and make it emulate Rome, that Constantino 
charged himself with this ruinous expence. But 
by what title can an useless and inactive race pre- 
tend a right to be thus maintained at the public 
charge? The Romans, a people altogether of a mi- 
litary genius, might well claim to be nourished, even 
in time of profound peace, by the fruits of their con- 
quests ; yet, in the very height of their splendor and 
their glory, a portion of land to cultivate was all 
they required; and that being allotted by the state, 
it is well known with what eagerness they issued 
forth to the labours of the field.. But with us, what 
useful end is answered by that ever-craving multitude 
that besieges the gates of the palace 2 ? Was it 
with such men that I expelled the Huns, those rava- 
gers of Thrace ? The city should retain only such 
a number of inhabitants as can find due employ- 
ment to maintain themselves by their industry ; the 
rest should be sent forth to colonize in different parts 
of the empire. They would increase population, 
and subsist upon the fruits of their labour. Agri- 
culture is the seminary of soldiers : a good and ser- 
viceable militia will never be formed out of a lazy 
race, who are contented to loiter away their days in 
idle poverty. Let the laws, and, above all, the 
taxes, be reduced to a plan of simplicity ; and the 
militia of the palace will be undone by its own in- 



2 Et quern panis alit gradibus dispensus ab altis.' Prud. 
lib. i. in Svnn. Panes Palatini bilibres. The Roman pound 
was ten modern ounces. Vide Buling. de ttibut. nc vectig* 
P. It, 



165 
significance. What an immense saving may be 
made by that circumstance, need not be men- 
tioned 3 . 

The most alarming expence of government, is the 
maintenance of the army. But even that expence 
will be reduced to the regular body of the legions ; 
for the veterans established in colonies upon the fron- 
tiers of the empire, subsist by their own industry; 
and their immunities and exemptions from all civil 
offices stand in the nature of pay 4 . Those colonies, 
the master-stroke of Constantine's genius and policy, 
are hot as yet annihilated : to make them revive in 
all the spirit of their original design, depends upon 
the will of the prince ; for, in fact, the number of 
gallant soldiers, who are now drooping in poverty 
and indolence, desire no better reward than to be 
sent to cultivate and defend the lands they have 
acquired by conquest. The same may be asserted 
in regard to the troops which have been settled on 
the borders of rivers 5 . Those places, now improved 
and cultivated, repay with abundance the industry 
of the labourer. 

Whole swarms of barbarians have been constantly 
crowding about our frontiers, in hopes of gaining a 



3 Vide rOrig. du Gouv. Fr. par M. PAbbe Gamier. 

4 Jam nunc munificentia mea (Constant.) omnibus vete- 
ranis id esse concessum perspicuum sit, ne quis illorum ullo 
munere civili neque operibus publicis conveniatur. Va- 
cantes terras accipiant, easque perpetuo habeant immunes. 
Cod. Theod. lib. vii. tit. 20. 

5 They were called Ripenses. Alexander Severus first 
•established them. Vide Lamprid. in Alexand. 



166 

settlement 6 in our provinces; and occasionally thef 
have been admitted, without sufficient precaution 7 ; 
but the danger consisted in admitting too large a 
number. Let foreign settlers, therefore, not be em- 
bodied together, but dispersed in distant places,, 
and let the waste and uncultivated lands be allotted 
to them. Of these we have, alas! too many 8 ; but 
a vigilant and active government would soon natu- 
ralize the foreign intruders, and incorporate them 
with the rest of the state as useful citizens, and well- 
affected soldiers. 

The Legions, therefore, are now the only remain- 
ing burden to the state ; and the tribute which we 
draw from Egypt, from Africa, and Sicily, would 
well support three times the number the govern- 
ment ever had in its service 9 . It is not respecting 
this article that parsimony is required, concerning 
their maintenance 1o . The state may be at ease, but 
it cannot be too strenuous in its endeavours to fix. 
them upon a good and regular establishment. There 
was a time, when admission into the legions was aa 

6 These settlers were called Lceti, and their lands Leetk 
forms. 

7 As the Goths under the emperor Valens. 

8 The lands of the Fiscus, or Treasury, were immense. 
The punishment of most offences was a confiscation of pro- 
perty. Vide PAbbe Gam. de POrigine Gouv. Fr. 

9 Sicily paid a tribute to the Romans of 7,200,000 bushels 
of corn, Egypt 21,600,000, and Africa 43,200,000; at the 
rate of six men to a bushel, there was a daily maintenance 
for 1,200,000 men. 

10 The monthly pay of a soldier was 400 asses, value 25 
silver denarii, equal to one nummus aureus. The assis was an 
ounce of copper ; the silver denarius weighed one, and the 
aureus 140 grains. 



167 
honour reserved for the citizens of Rome ", and was 
warmly disputed by the young men, who were eager 
candidates for it. That time is now no more, but 
it should be renewed. And then, what may not be 
achieved by men who have both honour and bread ! 

Men are no longer the same, said the emperor. 
— The nature of man is the same, replied Beli- 
sarius ; and nothing is changed but opinion, that 
sovereign mistress of the manners. In fact, we only 
want the soul of one great man, his genius and his 
example, to expand themselves abroad, and fix the 
principles and the manners. From a million of in- 
stances, that support this proposition, take a single 
fact, which is, in my estimation, worthy of the old 
republic in its greatest period, and evinces plainly, 
that in all ages, the virtue of mankind has displayed 
itself in proportion to the demand made for it by 
those who were sufficiently skilled in the powers of 
human nature. 

Rome was taken by Totila. One of our brave 
officers, whose name was Paul, had sallied out of the 
city at the head of a small party, and intrenched 
himself on an eminence, where he was surrounded 
by the enemy. Famine, it was not doubted, would 
soon reduce him to the necessity of surrendering ; 
and, in fact, he was in want of every thing. In this 
exigence, he addressed himself to his soldiers : " My 
" friends, said he, we must either perish, or survive 
" in slavery. You, I know, will not hesitate about 
" the choice ; but it is not enough to perish, we 
* l must perish nobly. The coward may resign him- 

" This honour was also eagerly disputed by the youth of 
the provinces, who had the rights of the city. 



i 68 
lf self to be consumed by famine; he may linger in 
" misery, and wait, in a dispirited condition, for the 
" friendly hand of death. But we, who have been 
« schooled and educated in the field of battle, we 
" are not now to learn the proper use of our arms : 
" we know how to carve for ourselves an honour- 
!* able death. Yes, let us die, but not inglorious 
* and unrevenged ; let us die covered with the blood 
" of our enemies, that our fall, instead of raising the 
*' smile of deliberate malice, may give them cause 
f* to mourn over the victory that undoes us. Can 
<f we wish to loiter a few years more in life, when 
f we know that a very few must bring us to our 
" graves ? The limits of human life cannot be en- 
c( larged by nature: but glory can extend, them, and 
*-' give a second life." 

He finished his harangue : the soldiery declared 
their resolution to follow him. They began their 
march. The intrepid countenance with which they 
advanced, soon denoted to the enemy a design to 
give battle with all the courage of the last de- 
spair. Without waiting, therefore, to receive the. 
attack of this illustrious band, the Goths thought 
proper to compound, by an immediate grant of life 
and liberty l2 . 

I can county my friends, upon at least two millions 
in the empire, capable of the same magnanimity, if 
another Paul were at the head of them, We can 
reckon also some chiefs of this illustrious class ; our 
victories have pointed them out. While such re- 
sources remain, let us not despair of the common- 
wealth. Are you still to be told, to what a degree 

" Leonard, Aretin. de bell. Ital. adyersus Gothos, lib. iv* 



169 
of prosperity, affluence, and population, the force 
of the state may be increased ? Recal to mind the 
condition in ancient times, I will not say of Gaul, 
which we meanly abandoned 13 , but of Spain, Greece, 
Italy, the republic of Carthage, and the various 
realms of Asia from the banks of the Nile to the 
Euxine shore. Recollect that Romulus I4 , who in 
the infancy of the state had but one legion, was able 
at his death to bequeath to his successor forty-seven 
thousand men under arms. By that circumstance 
you will be instructed what may be done by the ac- 
tivity, vigilance, and spirit of a single man. The 
empire, it is said, is undone. How J are Italy, Si- 
cily, Spain, Libia, and Egypt, all exhausted ? Are 
Boeotia, Macedonia, and the plains of Asia, which 
made the riches of Darius and Alexander, are they 
grown barren and unproductive? But the numbers 
of mankind are thinned ! Oh, my friends, let social 
happiness be re-established in those regions, and the 
progress of population will be rapid ; men will be 
found in plenty : and then, I should have courage to 
propose the vast plan which I have meditated, and 
which, perhaps, is the only way to render the empire 
more powerful and more flourishing than ever.- — 
And what can that plan be? said the emperor. — f 
will open it to you, replied Belisarius. 
The operations of war, according to our way of 

»3 In order to deliver Rome and Italy from the Goths, the 
emperor ceded to them the fairest provinces of Gaul. 
«* Facta est servitus nostra pretium securitatis aliense." 
Sidon* Apollin. lib. vii. ep. vii. 

H.The legion at that time consisted of 3,000 foot and 30tt 
horse.. Vide Dionys. Hal'tc. and Plutarch's L'?fe of Romifla: 

I 2 



170 

conducting it, exceeded the strength of our armies ^ 
we were quite exhausted by laborious marches and 
fatigue of every kind. The diversion of our arms 
gave the enemy an opportunity to alarm us with 
sudden incursions, which the line of veterans and of 
Agrarian soldiers, posted on our borders, was not 
sufficient to withstand ; and in consequence, before 
the regular legions could come up to their support, 
devastation and terror without control spread a ge* 
neral ravage IS . In order, therefore, to oppose to 
this torrent a constant fence, I would new model the 
empire upon a plan of military policy, in such sort 
that every freeman should be a soldier, but for the 
purposes only of internal defence. Upon this sys- 
tems every prefect would have under his command 
a well-arranged army, of which the cohorts would 
be formed by the cities, and the legions by the pro- 
vinces, with proper places appointed for their rendez- 
vous, that they might so act in concert, as, at the 
sound of a trumpet, to assemble immediately, and be 
embodied at the shortest warning. 

From an army of this kind would result the far- 
ther advantage, that every individual would glow 
with the love of his native soil ; that soil which he 
has helped to people, which his hands have culti- 

16 In the time of Augustus, the frontier provinces did 
not exceed nine. The legions were established at fixed 
and regular posts. But the number of provinces increasing 
afterwards, the legions became inadequate to the service. 
Constantine withdrew them to an interior station; and the 
lines of veterans, to whom lands were allotted on the bor- 
ders of the enemy, made but a feeble substitute in the 
room of more reenter forces. 



nr 

vated, and which is endeared to him by the labour 
he has employed to make it flourishing and fruitful. 
With these incentives in their bosoms, you may ima- 
gine to yourself how ardent they would be in the just 
defence of their property l6 . 

In an empire of wide extent, there is nothing so 
difficult as to diffuse through the whole an idea of 
a common cause, a principle of civil union, and one 
general interest. Among people separated by the 
sea, we seldom observe any considerable degree of 
attachment to one another. The South is wholly 
indifferent about the dangers that alarm the North. 
The Dalmatian and the Tllyrian march under our 
banners into Asia with the coldest insensibility : to 
them it is a matter of no concern, whether the Tigris- 
flows under our laws or those of the Persian. By 
military discipline he is retained in the camp, and 
from the love of plunder he derives a degree of 
spirit ; but cool reflection succeeds : by fatigue and 
labour he is relaxed ; and in the first moment of dis- 
content or terror, he abandons a cause which is not 
his own. Upon my plan, the very reverse would? 
be the case : the name of country would not be an 
empty sound to the soldier, but the object of his 
affection, ever dear and present, and twined about 
his heart by all the tenderest ties of nature. To 
inflame the soldier with spirit against the enemy, 
the proper harangue may be thus conceived: 
w Friends, countrymen, and fellow-citizens! behold. 

16 Land-possessions inspire their cultivators with courage 
to defend them. The fruit of the soil is the stake which th<? 
conqueror proposes to win. Zenoph. on Husbandry, 



172 
" the lands which gave you nurture ; lo, the roof 
" under which you drew your first breath ! the 
" tomb of your ancestors, the cradle of your infants, 
" and the bed of your wives, whom you are now 
" going to defend." And are not these powerful 
and pathetic motives ? They have made more he- 
roes than even love and ambition. Of their resist- 
less influence over minds trained up to ideas of war, 
and the rigorous duties of military discipline, you 
may easily form a judgment. 

For my part, I dwell with inexpressible delight 
on the picture, which even now imagination fondly 
draws, of a laborious, warlike youth, pressing with 
ardour in all our towns and villages to the standard 
of their country ; a spirited and active race, pre- 
served by labour from the vices of indolence, in- 
ured by habit to the rigours of manly exercise, ad- 
dicted to the useful arts of peace, and eager to take 
the field upon the first alarm of danger ! In a mi- 
litia so constituted, the crime of desertion w T ould be 
a crime against nature 1? ; and their courage and 
fidelity would be secured to their country by every 
sacred bond that holds society together. The state 
would not the less on this account be provided with 
its regular legions, w 7 hich would be a moving bul- 
wark, ready to be advanced whenever danger called^ 
By these means, a spirit of emulation, and a warlike 
genius, would be diffused throughout the empire ; 
and the reward of bravery might be, a commission 

*7 Communis utilitatis derelictio contra naturam est.. 
Ck. Off 3. 



173 

to serve in tire regular and more honourable body 
of the legions, which would be thus recruited, with- 
out those rash levies of men, which partiality, fraud, 
collusion, or negligence, enlist into the army I8 . We 
should then have a muster of the people. How 
superior would be the force of the empire to any 
former period of its strength, even though we should 
look back to the days of its most refulgent glory **! 
Would the enemy of the South or the North dare, 
in that case, to invade us ? Would they assault a 
people, who, with an undisciplined army, unpro- 
vided with the proper instruments of war, and al- 
most without bread, have so often beat back their 
irruptions ? 

And who can answer, interrupted Justinian, that, 
in a military state like this, the people will always 
be under the control of government ? Who will ven- 
ture to insure a due subordination ? — It will be in- 
sured, replied Belisarius, by their own interest, by 
the benignity of the laws, and the moderation, jus- 
tice, and sagacity of a wise administration. You 
will be so good as to bear in your minds, that I 
made the happiness of the people the very corner- 
stone of the edifice. — It is very true, said Justinian ; 
but the people are prone to change, fond of innova- 
tion, inconstant, restless, and ready to be inflamed by 

18 Hinc tot ubique ab hostibus illatoe clades, dum longa 
pax militem incuriosius legit ; dum possessionibus indicti 
Tyroues per gratiam aut dissimulationem probantur. Vegei. 
lib. i. cap. vii. 

J 9 Under Augustus 23 legions, under Tiberius 25; Adrian 
30; Galba 372,000 men, half Romans, and the other half 
auxiliaries.. 



114 
the first factious leader that hopes to find his account 
in civil commotions. — You see the people in one 
light only, replied Belisarius ; you judge of them in 
their present condition, a state of suffering, like that 
in which they were plunged at Rome % when Rome 
had fallen into misfortunes. But of this you may be 
sure, that men always know their own wants, and 
will understand their rights : let the prince succour 
the former, and protect the latter, and you may 
rely upon it that they will acknowledge all his pa- 
triot cares with gratitude. The sovereign's love will 
be repaid by the affections of his people. If he 
prove just, benevolent, and wise, confiding the offices 
of his administration to none but men worthy of se- 
conding the good intentions of a patriot prince, the 
people on their part will be docile and submissive. 
By what metamorphoses, I should be glad to know, 
can a few discontented spirits, a paltry handful of 
seditious malecontents, convert a people, who have 
reason to be satisfied, into a set of perjured rebels ? 
Such a revolt is only to be dreaded by him who- 
leaves his subjects to groan under oppression : the 
character of reigning for the good of the community,, 
will always be a bulwark against treasons and con- 
spiracies. Can it be imagined, that, amidst the 
applauses sent up to the throne by a grateful people,, 
rebellion will dare to erect its standard? Where is it 
to seek accomplices ? Will it go into scenes of rural 
tranquillity, where peace, and liberty, and plenty 

20 Hi mores vulgi : odisse praesentia, pra?terita celebrare. 
— Ingenio mobili (plebem) seditiosam, discordiosatn, cupi- 
dam rerum novarum, quieti et otio adversam. Sallust* 






115 

sit smiling on tire land ? Will it skulk Irr towns, 
where industry works in cheerfulness, and the for- 
tunes of every citizen, his life, his property, and his 
rights, are under the safeguard of the laws ? Will 
it cabal in families, where innocence, truth, honour, 
and the sanctity of marriage-vows, co-operate with 
all the tenderest ties of nature, and endear the do- 
mestic scene } Can treason in such places expect 
to find associates ? It will not expect it ; for the 
empire of justice is immoveable, or nothing sublu- 
nary can have a lasting duration. I will allow you,. 
that, in making the subject powerful, in order to 
render him happy and contented, there is a risk that 
requires a daring mind ; but of that daring mind I 
should be, though my ruin were the consequence : I 
should speak out and tell my people, I put arms into 
your hands to serve and aid me, if my government 
be just, and to resist usurpation, if I should be guilty 
of it. This you will deem rashness; but, in my 
idea, it is the height of prudence thus to put under 
due restraint both my own passions and those of the 
people, thereby establishing a sure barrier against 
the ill consequences of either. With my crown I 
should, by these means, transmit to my successor an 
hereditary necessity to govern according to law ; 
and that necessity, thus rendered descendable, would 
be the brightest monument of glory that ever mo- 
narch left behind him. I am aware, ray friends, 
that genuine virtue does not act upon the principle 
of fear ; but if virtue is entrenched by it, I shall 
think it a considerable advantage ; for what virtue 
is at all times sure of walking upright ? I know it is 



176 
a maxim, that a prince is above the laws 21 ; the very 
law itself asserts it, and perhaps wisely; but my first 
care should be, at my accession to forget that maxim, 
nor would I forgive the sycophant who should remind 
me of it. My friends, I now must take my leave. 
To change the face of things, and new-model an 
empire, is a laborious task ; let us repose ourselves a 
little. To-morrow I shall be glad of your company. 
There still remains behind another grievance, which 
afflicts my spirits ; but I will reserve it for another 
opportunity. At our next meeting I shall endea- 
vour to interest Tiberius in regard to the matter I 
have now only alluded to. 

His views are, no doubt, great and extensive, said 
the emperor, as he was on his way back. But if his 
schemes are practicable, they must be undertaken 
by some prince in the vigour of youth, who ascends 
the throne with a manly firmness of mind, a spirit of 
justice, of courage, and of virtue. Added to these 
qualities, he will have occasion for a long reign, in 
order to bring about so wonderful a revolution.- — I 
am not able to decide, said Tiberius ; but in his plan 
I thought 1 perceived some things that require only 
an effort of the will to compass them ; and if the 
rest must depend upon time, that time, it is to be 
hoped, is not so remote, but we may expect to see 
i.t dawn upon us shortly. — My dear Tiberius, replied 
the emperor, you behold difficulties with the eye of 
youthful inexperience ; your activity vaults over 
them ; but my infirmities shrink back dismayed. 

31 Frinceps legibus solutus est, Pandec. lib. i, 






177 
To execute great projects, alas! said he, with a deep 
sigh, we must begin early. It is not the time to be- 
gin to live, when all we need is to learn to die ; and 
yet I must see the good old man again. His con- 
versation, it is true, afflicts me ; but I had rather in^ 
dulge a pleasing sadness in his company, than suffer 
the insulting gaiety of vain unthinking men, who 
throng about me in my palace.. 



CHAP. XV. 



AT the accustomed hour, the next day, the era* 
peror and Tiberius found the hero in his garden, 
enjoying the departing rays of the western sun. It 
no longer lights me, said Belisarius, with a look ex- 
pressive of inward happiness, but it still warms and 
comforts me. In that stupendous orb I adore the 
bounty and magnificence of the great Creator. — - 
To hear this strain of piety from a warrior, said 
Justinian, delights and ravishes me; it is the triumph 
of religion ! — The triumph of religion, replied Beli- 
sarius, is to administer consolation in the hour of 
adversity, and to mingle in the cup of sorrow the 
sweets of calm delight, and heavenly satisfaction. 
That religion affords this heartfelt joy, who can 
give better testimony than myself? Overwhelmed 
with years, deprived of sight, and destitute of friends, 
abandoned over to myself, and nothing present to 
my thoughts but the decline of frail mortality, affile,- 



178 

tion, and my approaching grave, I have nothing led 
but to send up my meditations to Heaven : to de- 
prive me of that were, perhaps, to drive me to de- 
spair. The good man walks with God ' ; a secret 
consciousness that he is acceptable to his Creator 
warms his heart ; and from that source he derives 
strength and rapture even in the midst of affliction. 
When I was first surrounded with misfortunes, de- 
serted by all, and given up to my enemies, who were 
plotting my ruin, I have often said to myself, Be 
of courage, Belisarius ; you are free from self-re- 
proach, and your God beholds you. My heart, 
where all was laid waste and desolate with misery, 
revived and glowed within me at that reflection : I 
felt it expand in my bosom with new life and joy. 
I hold the same self-conference still : and when my 
daughter is with me, yielding to the stroke of afflic- 
tion, and bathing my face with tears; Can you be 
afraid, I ask her, that He who sent us on this stage 
of life, will cease to prompt, to invigorate, and sup- 
port us \ Your heart is endowed with sensibility, and 
truth and purest virtue reside there ; your father has 
not more to answer for than yourself; and can you 
imagine that the Fountain of all goodness will desert 
that virtue which he loves ? Oh ! my daughter, 
come but the moment, when He, that with his breath, 
called forth my soul into existence, shall command 
it into his own glorious presence ; and then we shall 
see whether wicked men will follow thither to disturb 



1 Nulla sine Deo mens bona est. Senec. Inter bonos viros 
ae Deum amicitia est, conciliante virtute. Idem*. 



179 
that state of bliss. My poor daughter Eudoxa 
listens with fixed attention to this consoling language, 
and her tears fall as she hears it ; but they are tears 
that flow mingled with delight: and thus by degrees 
I lead her to consider life as a little voyage, which 
we perform in a bark not accommodated to our 
wishes, and therefore, with joy we approach the 
port, where all is peace, delight, and rapture. 

You have framed for yourself, said the emperor, 
a very comfortable scheme of religion ! — It is the 
true religion, replied Belisarius. Would you have 
me contemplate the God whom I adore, in the light 
of a sullen and offended tyrant, who delights in ven- 
geance only ? I know full well that when he is repre- 
sented to us by men of dark, of jealous, haughty, 
and melancholy tempers, the image of the Deity 
takes a tincture from the imaginations it has passed 
through, and a benevolent God is made to appear a 
fretful, passionate, and irascible being, like the crea- 
tures that talk of him. They perhaps find their ac- 
count in making their own vices the attribute of 
Heaven : but I endeavour to figure to myself the 
perfections which it is my duty to imitate. Do you 
think this an error ? It is at least an innocent one. 
From the hands of my Creator I came forth weak 
and feeble ; he will be indulgent therefore ; to him 
it is apparent that I have neither the madness nor 
the wickedness to offend him : that infatuation of 
mind, that impotence of pride, is foreign to my heart. 
To my God I am more dutifully attached, more 
fervently devoted, than ever I was to the emperor t 
and of this I am sure, that the emperor, who is but 



ISO 
a weak erring man, would never have done me harm, 
if, like my God, he could have read my heart. 

Alas ! that God, said Justinian, is, notwithstand- 
ing what you have said, a God of wrath, a terrible 
God ! — Yes, to the guilty he is terrible, replied Be- 
iisarius ; but I am self-acquitted in my own con- 
science ; it tells me I am good and virtuous ; and 
in the same manner that the flagitious soul is incom- 
patible with the essence of the Divinity, I have the 
comfort to think that the soul of the just man is 
analogous to the Fountain of all goodness. — But 
which of us is the just man ? said the emperor. — He 
that endeavours most to be so, replied Belisarius : fop 
goodness consists altogether in volition. 

That you delight in the contemplation of your 
God, said Tiberius, is not surprising, since you be- 
hold him in so amiable a light. — Alas ! replied the 
old man, I know how much I am obliged to strain 
my feeble powers in order to conceive suitably of 
the Divine Majesty ; and, after all the efforts of a 
limited capacity, to form into one complex idea all 
that is sublime, and beautiful, and good, I am con- 
scious how inadequate the image is at last. But 
what can a man who would elevate his thoughts to 
a notion of his Maker ? If that all-wise and incom- 
prehensible Being delights in any thing, it is in the 
effusion of benevolence to all his creatures : this re- 
flection paints him to me in the mildest attitudes, 
and on that idea F therefore dwell, in order to form 
the most endearing conception of him. 

But it will not be enough, said the emperor, to* 
define him a benevolent being ; you must call bin* 






isi 

just also. — They are synonymous words, replied Be- 
lisarius. To delight in goodness, and to have a 
detestation for evil ; to reward the former, and to 
punish the latter, that is the true character of good- 
ness ; that is my first, my unalterable principle. 
Has it never happened to you as it has to me, to 
attend the levee of Titus, of Trajan, and Antoninus? 
That is one of the reveries in which my imagination 
loves to indulge. I fancy myself in that court, com- 
posed of the true friends of the crown : I see those 
illustrious princes dispense the smiles of complacence 
all around the honest circle ; I see them commu- 
nicate the beams of glory and of majesty, mixed 
and blendid with such pleasing delicacy and soft- 
ness, that every heart participates of the joy the so- 
vereign feels in diffusing happiness to others. If 
that be an august scene, how much more glorious and 
refulgent will be the court of Him who is at last to 
receive my soul ! It will be filled with the Tituses,; 
the Trajans, and the Antoninuses, those delights of 
mankind. It is in their company, and that of the 
virtuous of all ages and of all countries, that the 
poor blind Belisarius will glow with purest fire before 
the throne of a good and equitable God. — And the 
wicked, said Tiberius, how do you dispose of them ? 
— They will not be there ! I shall hope, conti- 
nued he, to see in that blaze of glory the august 
and wretched old man who took away my eyes ; 
for he has done much good from the inclination of 
his heart ; and if he ever did wrong, he was sur- 
prised into it. He will rejoice, I believe, to see my 
lost organs restored to me ! — As thus the hero spoke, 



182 
liis whole countenance was irradiated with joy, while 
the emperor poured floods of tears, reclining upon 
the breast of Tiberius. 

At length his tender sensations giving way to re- 
flection, Do you hope, said the emperor, to find the 
pagan heroes in that paradise which has so enrap- 
tured you 2 ? Do you think they will be admitted ? 
— My good neighbour, replied Belisarius, you do 
not mean, I am sure, to afflict me in my old age 1 
I am poor and wretched, without any other comfort 
than that which springs up within me from the 
scenes of futurity which I have fancied to myself. 
If it be an error, pray indulge me in it : it cheers 
my heart, and God is not offended : it enlarges my 
idea of his benevolence, and I love him more ar- 
dently for it. I cannot be induced to think, that 
between my soul and that of Aristides, of Marcus 
Aurelius, and of Cato, there is an eternal abyss of 
separation ; if I thought there were, I feet that my 
love for the great Author of our existence would be 
diminished by it. 

Young man, said the emperor to Tiberius, while 
you honour the enthusiastic virtue of this hero, you 
must not believe him an orthodox guide. Belisarius 
never pretended to be deeply versed in the mysteries 
of faith. — And who can be deeply versed ? replied 
the hero. Alas ! who can presume to think his eye 
has pervaded the great scheme of Providence? The 

2 It has been decided by the fathers, that God will work 
a miracle, rather than let him perish everlastingly who has 
faithfully followed the laws of nature. But Justinian, it is 
well known, was a bigot, and of a persecuting spirit. 



183 
all-wise Creator has given us two guides, which ought 
to operate in concert with each other; and those 
guides are, the light of faith and of natural reason. 
The truth, of which we are convinced by intuition, 
faith will never contradict. Revelation is but a sup- 
plement to the light of nature : it is the same voice 
that speaks to us from the throne of heaven, and 
from the bottom of the heart. It is impossible that 
they should be at variance : and if, on the one hand, 
the truth that stirs within me announces the just and 
good man to be acceptable to his Creator, I shall 
never hear, on the other, that he is obnoxious to 
the wrath of Heaven. — And who can be answerable, 
said the emperor, that this inward sentiment is the 
revelation of nature? — If it be not, replied Belisarius, 
a just and benevolent God suffers me to be misled, 
and all is lost. It is the light of natural reason that 
tells me there is an all-governing Mind, that com- 
mands me to worship him, and promulgates his laws 
in my very soul. And will the wise Creator give 
me by those means an inward conviction, that may 
prove at last the grossest error ? Alas ! whoever is 
my antagonist in these points, I beg him to leave me 
still my conscience, the light of intuition: it is my 
guide, and my best support. Without it, I can no 
longer distinguish right from wrong, or good from 
evil : truth and falsehood become indiscriminate, 
and my duty loses its sanction. I do not even know 
that there are any duties to bind me : I then am 
blind indeed ; and they, who took from me the light 
of the sun, were by far less barbarous than the man 



184 
Tvho should extinguish in me the internal light of 
reason. 

• Let me ask you, said Justinian, what do you per- 
ceive so clearly by this faint glimmering ray within 
the mind? — I perceive, replied the hero, that the 
religion which intimates to me a just and benevolent 
God, is a true religion, and that whatever is repug- 
nant to that fine inward sentiment is not of that reli- 
gion. Shall I avow my principles ? I am attached 
to that religion, because it renders me better, and 
gives a dignity to my nature. If I felt that it made 
me haughty, fierce, and hard of heart, I should 
abjure it at once, and I should say to my God, In 
the dilemma which obliges me to be either wicked 
or an unbeliever, I choose the latter, and am sure it 
will least offend you. But happily the religion I 
embrace is congenial to my heart. Love God, and 
love his works: can any thing be more simple, just, 
and natural? To wish good to him who does us 
evil ; what a noble morality ! how generous and 
sublime ! In our misfortunes to consider all as a trial 
of virtue ; how sweet and comfortable the philosophy ! 
Thus far I^m content; and while I possess this mo- 
ral system, if mysteries are proposed to me, I ac- 
knowledge them above my reason, and I submit, with 
a sincere compassion for those whose judgments 
want the same rectitude and docility ; at the same 
time I recommend them to the supreme goodness 
of the Father of all, and to the infinite mercy of that 
omniscient Judge, who sees the paths of error, and 
can forgive it. 



185 

In this way of proceeding, said Justinian, you are 
going to deal out salvation to numbers without dis- 
tinction ! — And is it necessary, replied Belisarius, 
that numbers should be in a state of reprobation ? — 
I feel with you, said Justinian, that it is more com- 
fortable to love God than to fear him ; but all na- 
ture attests his vengeance, and the rigour of his de- 
crees. — For my part, said Belisarius, I am persuaded 
that he only punishes when the divine grace cannot 
be extended ; that he is not the origin of evil; that 
he has formed the best possible system, and has dif- 
fused all the good that system was capable of receiv- 
ing 3 . That is ray theology. Let it be proposed 
throughout the w T orld, and it will be found worthy 
of being embraced with zeal and veneration : the 
voice of nature will speak aloud in favour of it. 
Should violence and cruelty arm it with sword and 
fire ; should the rulers of the earth, who profess this 
religion, with bigot rage bid the fiends of hell over- 
run the world, and in the name of God excruciate 
those whom they ought to pity and to love, they 
will establish one or other of these two propositions, 
either that their religion is barbarous like themselves, 
or they give the lie to the doctrine of truth. 

3 The opinion of the Stoic school, which was adopted by 
Leibnitz, and other Optimists, is here ascribed to Belisarius. 
Bonus est, (Deus) bono nulla cujusquam boni invidia est: fecit 
itaque quam optimum potuit. Senec. Epist. lib. xxv. Stuic- 
quid nobis negatum est, dari non potuit. idem de Benefi. 
lib. ii. cap. 28. Magna accepimus, major a non cepimus, 
lb. cap. 29. Deum sine consilio agenlem ne cogiiare quidem 
facile est ; qu<E autemfuissei causa propter quam male miki con- 
sultumfuisset. Marc, Anton, lib. vi. 

K 



186 

You have raised, said Justinian, a serious and im- 
portant question ! To throw some light upon it, it 
will be proper to enquire, whether a prince has a 
right to establish throughout his dominions an uni- 
formity of faith, and one general mode of worship. 
If this right be inherent in the crown, how can it be 
exerted against rebellious and stubborn dissenters, 
but by force and punishments ? 

As I am making a profession of faith, said Belisa- 
rius, I will frankly own, that whatever concerns the 
good order of society, and has an influence on the 
manners, is of necessity subject to the jurisdiction of 
the sovereign, not as the infallible judge of truth 
and falsehood, but as a magistrate, whose province 
it is to compute the political good or evil that re- 
sults from the actions of men : and this opinion of 
mine I found upon this principle, which should be a 
first principle in every man's creed, namely, That 
God is the friend of order, and authorizes nothing 
that can disturb it. — Well then, said the emperor, 
do you doubt that there is a close and intimate rela- 
tion between the established faith and the manners ? 
— I acknowledge, replied Belisarius, that there are 
many truths, by their nature interwoven with the 
manners ; but take this with you, that there are in- 
tuitive truths planted by the hand of God in every 
breast, which no man in his senses will call in ques- 
tion : whereas the truth of mysteries, which are be- 
yond the reach of human understanding, and there- 
fore require a revelation, has no connection with the 
morals of mankind ; for, if we consider a moment, 
we shall perceive, that the all-wise Being has de- 



187 

tached his mysteries from the great system of ethics, 
for purposes the most important to society, namely, 
that, without waiting for a revelation, man should be 
led by the propensity of his nature to a moral con- 
duct: and if Providence has thought fit to make 
the welfare of society, the political happiness of man- 
kind, the fate of empires, and the course of human 
contingencies, altogether independent of the sublime 
truths of revelation, my question is, Why should 
not the civil magistrate imitate the dispensations of 
the Supreme Being ? The sovereign should enquire 
dispassionately, whether, by believing or not be- 
lieving any particular speculative point, mankind 
would, in a moral sense, be better or worse, and m 
a political view more valuable citizens, or more 
faithful subjects. This, I will take upon me to say, 
should be the rule of sovereign authority ; and, in 
consequence of it, you see what a number of inge- 
nious disputes would be excluded from civil govern- 
in ent. 

I observe, said the emperor, that you leave nothing 
to the superintendence of the magistrate, but what 
essentially concerns the interests of society : and yet, 
among all the important duties of sovereignty, the 
nK>st sacred office surely consists in being the vicege- 
rents of Heaven, for the purposes of enforcing the 
dispensations of the eternal will. — Ah ! let them be 
vicegerents of almighty goodness, said Relisarius, and 
they will do well to leave the ministry of vengeance to 
the demons of hell. — That the darkness of ignorance 
should be dispelled, and that truth should have its 
triumph throughout the world, must be allowed, 



188 
said the emperor, to be co-incident with the plan of 
Infinite Goodness. — Truth cannot fail to triumph, 
said Belisarius, but it must not be by the arm of 
flesh. Do you not perceive, that, by putting the 
sword of vengeance into the hand of Truth, you en- 
trust Error with it also ? The very possession of that 
sword, will be ever deemed a sufficient authority to 
wield it without mercy ; and, let me add, Persecu- 
tion will always be on the side of the strongest, and 
will there erect its banners according to the preva- 
lence of opinion, and, as that suggests, will glut 
itself w 7 ith the blood of unhappy victims. In this 
manner, we know, Anasthasius persecuted that mode 
of faith which Justinian now protects. The descend- 
ents of men, who were formerly murdered by the 
spirit of intolerance, have now reversed the scene, 
and, in their turn, commit a daily massacre upon the 
posterity of those who, not long since, butchered 
mankind for the service of another religion. Behold 
those two princes, who thought to render them- 
selves acceptable to God, by piously murdering 
their fellow-creatures ! Supposing the principle to 
be right, can either of them be sure that the blood 
he spilt was that with which God desired to see his 
altars imbrued? Error has an immensity of space, and 
Truth is like a mathematical point in the prodigious 
void. And who has hit that point ? Each man as- 
sumes that happiness to himself; but upon what 
proof? If there be the clearest evidence that he is 
right, can that evidence authorize him to insist, and 
to insist sword in hand, that mankind should be 
convinced by it ? Persuasion comes from Heaven, or 



189 
it is the work of man. If from Heaven, it will bring 
with it the credentials of its mission; if it be of hu- 
man origin, it can only claim the authority of reason 
over the faculties of the understanding. Each man 
is answerable for his own soul. It is his business, 
therefore, and his only, to determine the choice 
upon which the happiness or misery of his future 
existence depends. You would compel me to think 
as you do ; and, if you are mistaken, you see how 
dear it costs me. As to yourself, the error might have 
been innocent; will it be innocent to work my 
ruin ? Alas ! why is man so arrogant, as to set up 
his own religious creed as a law to others? Millions, 
who had entertained a rational system of belief, have 
been seduced and imposed upon. But let it be even 
supposed that the zealous religionist is infallible : is 
it my duty to attach infallibility to any human opi- 
nion ? God, he will say, enlightens him: let him 
then charitably pray, that God will favour me in 
the same manner. But, after all, if this infallibility 
be assumed upon human evidence, what security has 
the zealot for himself or for me, whom he has forced 
into his sect ? The only point upon which all theolo- 
gists agree, is, that they do not comprehend the very 
mysteries they dare to pronounce upon with such 
peremptory decision, and shall it be a crime in me 
to doubt, where they do not understand ? Let pure 
and simple faith descend from heaven, and it will be 
sure of gaining proselytes : but decrees and penal 
edicts will give two things only to the world, rebels 
and hypocrites. The brave will rebel, to vindicate 
the rights of the free-born mind, and they will be 



190 
martyred ; cowards will wear the mask of dissimula- 
tion ; while the fanatics of every sect will be so many 
tigers let loose upon mankind. Cast an eye upon 
Theodoric, that wise king of the Goths, whose reign 
(if we except the latter end of it) was not inferior to 
the administration of our most virtuous princes. He 
was of the Arian persuasion, but so far from desiring 
to plant his own faith by the destruction of mankind, 
that he punished the occasional conformity of his fa- 
vourites with death. " How can I think," he used 
to say, " that you will not betray me, since, with a 
" spirit of the basest complaisance, you betray hinv 
u who was adored by your forefathers ?" — The em- 
peror Consfcantius thought the same. With him, it 
was never a crime in the subject to be steady in his 
religious tenets ; on the contrary, it was, in his eyes, 
a sin of the deepest dye, in any courtier to abjure 
his faith for temporal motives, and betray his soul for 
the sake of court favour. Would to Heaven, that, 
like them, Justinian had never bent himself to en- 
slave the privilege of thinking ! But alas! he suffered 
himself to be involved in controversies which can 
never be ended, and which gave him more trouble 
than all his illustrious labours : for what were the 
consequences? Seditions, revolt, and massacres* His 
own quiet and that of the state was undone. 

The tranquillity of the state, said the emperor, 
depends upon unity of sentiment. — The expression 
is equivocal, replied Belisarius, and the constant 
source of mistake. The minds of men are never in 
better harmony, than when each individual is at li- 
bertv to think for himself. Do you know whence 



191 

it is, that opinion is jealous, arbitrary, and intole- 
rant ? It is owing to the fatal error of sovereigns, in 
thinking the speculative opinions of mankind of 
high importance to the state, and distinguishing one 
dogmatical party with the most partial favours, in 
prejudice and total exclusion of all the rest. No 
man is willing to be marked out for contempt, 
proscribed, and stripped of all his civil rights. 
Whenever a state is divided into two factions, and 
one of them engrosses all the advantages of the 
community, the other, whatever be the cause of 
dissension, will think itself aggrieved ; and the love 
of their country will give way to resentment and 
sourness of spirit. The most frivolous object will 
become grave and important, as soon as it influ- 
ences the peace of society. It is that influence, and 
not the thing itself, which inflames the temper of 
party. Let a controversy be raised concerning the 
grains of sand on the sea-shore ; to that controversy 
annex a degree of influence upon the condition of 
the subject, and it will be managed with as much 
heat and animosity as any other question. Religious 
fury is, for the most part, compounded of envy, 
fierce desire, ambition, pride, hatred, and fanatic 
vengeance, that tyrannizes with zeal, as if it were 
commissioned by Heaven; and all those complicated 
passions are the gods of which sovereigns are made 
implacable delegates. Were there nothing to be 
gained on earth by waging war for Heaven ; were 
zeal for truth to be deprived of a pious licence to 
murder all who differ about an hypothesis; were 
religious enmity no longer allowed to rise upon the 



192 

ruins of the man it hates ; were it restrained from 
enriching itself with the spoils of the opposite sect, 
and gaining undue honours and preferments ; the 
spirits of mankind would soon be composed, and all 
the various parties would be left to dogmatise after 
their own fashion. 

And so the cause of God would be abandoned, 
said Justinian. — The cause of God, replied Belisa- 
rius, wants no enthusiasts to support it. Is it owing 
to polemical divinity, that the sun rises, and the 
stars glitter in the firmament ? Truth shines with its 
own pure genuine lustre ; and the understandings 
of men are not enlightened by burning the faggots 
of persecution. The actions of mankind are com- 
mitted by Heaven to the jurisdiction of sovereigns ; 
but to judge of the inward sentiment, is a right re- 
served for the great Searcher of hearts. That truth 
has not chosen princes for its arbitrators, will be 
perfectly plain, if we consider that not one of them 
is exempt from error. 

If the liberty of thinking, said the emperor, must 
not be limited, the liberty of acting will soon claim 
the same immunity. 

There can be no danger of it, replied Belisarius : 
it is in that respect that man is under the immediate 
control of the civil power ; and while that power 
confines itself within the limits of law and natural 
justice, it will have the less occasion for force to 
maintain its own dignity, and the good order of 
society. The basis of authority is justice ; remove 
the latter, and the former falls to the ground. I 
want to know by what arts of illusion is mortal man 






193 

to deify himself, and induce his fellow-creatures to be 
duped by the monstrous apotheosis to such a depth 
of infatuation, as to let. him, sword in hand, com- 
mand mankind to believe what he believes, and 
think what he thinks ? Ask the commanders of the 
army, whether the logic of the sword has ever con- 
vinced the world ? Bid them tell you what were the 
effects of violence and rigour against the Vandals } 
I was in Sicily ; Salomon arrived in the extremity 
of despair : " All is over in Africa," said he ; " the 
" Vandals have revolted : Carthage is taken, and 
" they have committed the vilest ravage: within 
" the walls, and round the country, all is a deluge 
" of blood; and this horrible confusion is owing to 
" certain polemical zealots, who do not understand 
" themselves, and, of course, never can be recon- 
" ciled. If the emperor will mix himself thus in ab- 
" stract sophistry, and publish his edicts in support 
** of subtleties which he does not comprehend, let 
" him put his irrefragable doctors at the head of his 
" armies : for my part I resign : they have driven 
" me beyond all patience." Thus that brave man 
declared his sentiments : between ourselves, he was 
in the right. There are passions enough incident ta 
human nature for the disquiet of the world, without 
having the torch of discord lighted up by fanati- 
cism. 

And who, enquired the emperor, shall quench the 
flames of discord ? — The nature of the human mind 
will quench the flame, returned Belisarius : for ca- 
suists will grow, tired, at last, of skirmishing about 

k 2 



propositions men cannot understand, and cavilling 
about distinctions none have leisure to attend to. At 
first, indeed, new-fangled opinions excited curiosity, 
and that curiosity encouraged the eagerness of dis- 
putation. Take away from controversy all impor- 
tance in the eyes of the world, and it will soon be 
out of fashion : men, in that case, will endeavour t& 
distinguish themselves by something different from 
an idle hypothesis. I compare these polemical bi- 
gots to a set of champions in the public games, who 
wpuld embrace one another in perfect good hu- 
mour, if left to themselves; but, being gazed at by 
the multitude, they cut one another's throats. 

To avow the truth, said Tiberius, his reasonings 
have almost convinced me. — What troubles me, said' 
the emperor, is, that, upon this system, the zeal of a 
prince can render no service to religion. 

Heaven preserve me, returned Belisarius, from 
doing that mischief ! I leave him the surest means* 
of serving the interests of religion, by making the 
soundness of his faith appear from the purity of hi* 
morals ; and by holding forth the tenor of his go- 
vernment as an evidence, and indeed as a pledge 
for the truth that governs his actions. By making 
men happy, it is easy to make proselytes. A good 
and upright king has a more powerful empire over 
the hearts of men, than all the pious friends of per- 
secution collected together. It is indeed easier and 
more expeditious to cut mens' throats, than to per- 
suade them : but, if bigot kings were to raise their 
voice to tlie Most High, with this question, What 



195 

arms would you have us employ to make you adored 
upon earth? and if God would deign to make him- 
self heard, the answer would be, — display your 
virtues. 

As soon as the emperor's spirits, which had been 
much agitated by this enquiry, grew calm again in 
the silence of retreat, he recalled to mind the maxims 
and the counsels of the religious sectaries that sur- 
rounded him; their enthusiastic violence, their 
pride, and unrelenting animosity. What a contrast, 
said he, has Belisarius exhibited ! A man grown 
grey in battle, and yet breathing the sweetness of 
humanity, meekness, and benevolence ' whereas the 
ministers of the God of peace, preach nothing but 
imperious arrogance, and implacable rigour ! The 
old hero is at once pious and just : he loves his God, 
and wishes to see him adored by all : he only re- 
quires that the adoration offered up should spring 
from sentiment and free-will. Alas ! I have given 
way to a false zeal, which, at the bottom, was no 
better than a rage to tyrannize over the human un- 
derstand in 2. 



196 



CHAP. XVI. 



As the emperor and Tiberius went the next day 
to revisit the hero, they encountered a danger 
which they had not foreseen ; and the glory of de- 
livering them was reserved by Heaven as one tri- 
umph more to crown the fame of Belisarius. 

The Bulgarians, who had been chased no farther 
than the foot of the mountains in Upper Thrace, no 
sooner perceived the country free from their pur- 
suers, than they spread themselves again over the 
face of the land. One of their detached parties was 
prowling in quest of prey near the retreat of Belisa- 
rius, when a carriage appeared, and promised a rich 
booty. They immediately hemmed it in ; inter- 
cepted the two travellers, and made them prisoners. 
As they surrendered all they had without hesitating, 
the plunderers spared their lives. But for their 
liberty a ransom, not in their power to pay down, 
was expected^ and therefore they were led along in 
captivity. 

But one way of escaping out of their hands, 
without being known, occurred to the emperor. 
Conduct us, said he, to the place whither we were 
going : there we shall be able to procure the ransom 
you require. I will answer with my head that you 
have no surprise to apprehend ; and if I break my 
word, or give you reason to repent confiding in me, 
I agree to forfeit my life. 



191 
The air of candour and majesty with which these 
words were uttered, made an impression upon the 
Bulgarians. Whither would you have us lead you ? 
enquired the Bulgarian chief. — About six miles off, 
answered the emperor, to the retreat of Belisarius. — 
Of Belisarius! what! do you know that illustrious 
hero ? — Most assuredly I do, said the emperor, and 
I dare count upon him as my friend. — If that 
be the case, replied the Bulgarian, you need be 
under ao apprehension : we will accompany you 
thither. 

Belisarius, on the first notice of their arrival, ima- 
gined they came to carry him off a second time ; 
and his daughter, with tears, with shrieks, and the 
utmost consternation, clasped him in her arms ; My 
father, said she, Oh ! my father ! must we part 
again ? 

In this instant word was brought, that the court- 
yard was filled with an armed force, that stood in 
formidable ranks round a carriage. Belisarius made 
his appearance ; and the chief of the Bulgarians 
immediately accosting him, Illustrious hero, said he, 
here are two men who claim an acquaintance with 
you, and call you their friend. — What are their 
names ? said Belisarius. — I am Tiberius, said the 
young man, and my father is made a prisoner with 
me. — Oh ! yes, I know them, exclaimed Belisa- 
rius ; they are my neighbours and my good friends. 
But you that lead them hither, by what right have 
you laid hands on them? Who and what are you ? — 
We are Bulgarians, said the chief, and the right of 
war is our claim. But every thing gives way to the 



193 
esteem we have for you. We should but ill serve a 
prince who honours you, if we failed in respect to 
those whom you acknowledge. Thou wonderful 
man ! your friends are free, and to you they are 
indebted for their liberty. 

At these words, the emperor and Tiberius made 
an effort to raise their arms, and embrace Belisarius; 
the hero felt the chains which restrained them : 
And how, said he, your hands bound in captivity ! 
and he unfettered them immediately. 

Astonishment, joy, surprise, and wonder together, 
rose and throbbed wildly in the bosom of Justinian. 
Oh ! virtue, said he to himse'f, powerful virtue ! 
what an irresistible empire is thine ! a poor blind 
old man, surrounded with wretchedness, commands 
respect from kings ! wrests the sword from the hands 
of barbarians, and frees from chains the man who — 
Gracious God ! if the universe beheld the shame 
that covers me ! Alas ! it would be too mild a pu- 
nishment. 

The Bulgarians were desirous to return the booty 
they had seized. By no means, said the emperor, 
keep it all as a gift, and rest assured that I shall also 
add the ransom we had stipulated. 

The Bulgarian chief, in taking leave of Belisarius, 
asked if he had any commands for the king his 
master. Tell him, it is my constant prayer to 
Heaven, said Belisarius, that so valiant a prince may 
be the ally and the friend of my sovereign. 

Oh ! Belisarius, exclaimed Justinian, now 7 reco* 
vered from his confusion and surprise, Oh, Belisa- 
rius ! what an ascendant have you gained over the 



199 
Bearts of men ! The very enemies of the empire 
esteem and love you! — Do not wonder, said the 
hero with a smile, at the interest I have with the 
Bulgarians. I am upon good terms with their king; 
and but a few days since we supped together. — 
Where was that? said Tiberius. — In the king's 
own tent, replied the hero ; I forgot to mention that 
adventure. As I was on my journey hither, I was, 
like you, made -a prisoner, and conducted to the 
barbarian camp. Their king gave me a generous 
reception, entertained me handsomely, and lodged 
me for the night under his own pavilion. The 
next day I obtained from him a guard to convey 
me safe back to the place where J fell into the 
hands of a roving party. — -How, said Justinian* 
the king of Bulgaria know you, and not detain you 
with him ! — He was inclined to do it, returned the 
hero, but his designs and ray principles did not 
correspond with each other. He talked to me of 
taking my revenge. Who? I revenge myself! a 
mighty cause indeed for involving a whole country 
in flames ! 1 returned him thanks, as you may ima- 
gine, for the offer of his assistance ; and now, you 
see, he has conceived an esteem for me ! 

Oh ! what remorse, what eternal bitter remorse 
for the soul of Justinian, said Justinian himself, 
should he ever know to what a cruel excess his in- 
gratitude has been carried ! Where shall he find a 
friend like you whom he has thus basely injured? 
Alas ! he is unworthy of any man's regard after this 
outrage, this horrible injustice ! 
Do not exaggerate the matter, returned Belisarius ; 



200 

fester not the wounds of an aged emperor, but ra- 
ther respect his years and his misfortunes. He was 
surprised into that proceeding against me, and I 
will give you a little history of that business. There 
are three remarkable eras in the progress of my 
ruin. The first was my entry into Carthage. Be- 
ing master of Gilimer's palace, the use I made of his 
throne was to convert it into a tribunal of justice. 
In so doing, my intention was to give weight and 
dignity to the laws : my inward sentiment w T as not 
legible to common eyes ; and when a man seats 
himself on a throne, he will naturally enough have 
the appearance of trying how he likes it. That was 
an indiscretion : but it was not the only one I com- 
mitted. A very whimsical kind of curiosity prompted 
me to dine at Gilimer's table, after the fashion of 
the Vandals, and I was served, in the usual manner 
of that court, by the officers of the king. It was 
concluded, that I had a mind to succeed to the va- 
cant throne, and appearances gave some colour to 
it. A report of this soon reached the imperial pa- 
lace. ]n order to counterwork the effect of it, I 
desired to be recalled, and Justinian recompensed 
my fidelity by a magnificent triumph. Gilimer r 
with his wife and children, together with all the ac- 
cumulated treasure, which for a series of years the 
Vandals had ravished from the nations round them, 
adorned the splendid pomp. The emperor re- 
ceived me in the Circus, and when from the throne, 
on which he was elevated amidst the acclamations 
of a people almost without number, he stretched 
forth his hand to his subject, with that air of ma- 



201 

jesty and sweetness, my heart exulted within me, 
and I said to myself, This day's example will be 
productive of many heroes! Justinian knows the art 
of kindling emulation, and enflaming the mind to 
glory ; the honour of serving him will now be a 
prize contended for. But alas ! the triumph, which 
was to insure prosperity to the prince, began al- 
ready to prepare for me a reverse of fortune! From 
that very moment, Envy stood with her bow bent 
against me. 

A course of victory for five years together, it is 
true, made it necessary even for Envy to keep some 
measures of decency ; but, provoked at last beyond 
all patience by the success that attended me, she 
dared to shew herself openly, without any sense of 
shame. 

The Goths were chased out of Italy, and had 
thrown themselves into Ravenna : I laid siege to the 
place. It was their only refuge; and, there pent up, 
it was impossible for them to escape. Envy whis- 
pered to the emperor that Ravenna was impreg- 
nable, that his army would all perish before the 
town, in pursuit of my schemes of vain-glory ; and, 
in consequence, when the Goths were upon the 
point of surrendering, ambassadors from Justinian 
arrived with proffered terms of peace. I saw that 
the emperor had been imposed upon, and I thought 
it would be treachery, on my part, to lose the oppor- 
tunity of making Italy our own : I therefore de- 
clined to ratify the conditions of peace ; the town 
capitulated, and I was accused of treason and re- 
volt. The charge had some foundation, as you per- 
ceive ; for I had been guilty of disobedience, and 



202 
there was still something more in it. The enemy 
were disaffected to their king, and made me a ten- 
der of their crown. A peremptory refusal might 
embitter their minds ; I returned a flattering an- 
swer ; and that seeming acquiescence was deemed 
sincere at court. I was recalled ; and the prompt 
obedience with which I laid down the command, 
disconcerted my enemies. To the emperor's feet I 
led that very Gothic king, whose crown I was said 
to be ambitious of. This time a triumph was not 
allowed me. I felt myself sorely mortified on the 
occasion. I do not mean to say that I was humbled 
in the sight of the people: far from it : my retinue 
had sufficient pomp ; and the acclamations of the 
public, who pressed in crowds about me, would have 
satisfied a more aspiring vanity than mine. But the 
cold reception I met with from the emperor, more 
than hinted to me that he was not undeceived, and 
that a latent suspicion was in secret still at work 
against me. Unluckily the impression made upon 
his mind was not a little aggravated by the enthu- 
siastic admiration of the people, whose idol I had the 
misfortune to be. 

And now, in a dispassionate manner, put your- 
selves in the place of the emperor ; consider the 
prejudices that had been infused into his heart. 
Should not you have been piqued at the praise 
which reproached yourself? Do you think the sup- 
posed ambition of a subject, extolled to the very 
skies, would not have given you umbrage? Should 
you not have seen with spleen and resentment, a 
whole people, wild with joy, and, in the transport 
of their hearts, taking revenge against yourself, even 



203 
to a malice of enjoyment, by giving me a popularity 
superior to the triumph that had been refused ? 
Could you have shut your ear to the whispers of a 
court commenting upon the insult offered to Majesty, 
by the tumult of applause that followed Belisarius ? 
My good neighbour, the greatest prince is but mere 
man ; they are all jealous of their power and their 
splendor; and if Justinian had not had vigour 
enough to subdue the little passions of his heart, 
and to pardon the merit which provoked him, it 
would have been by no means a matter of wonder. 
And yet the emperor did conquer his jealousies : he 
controlled the weaknesses of vanity and suspicion, and 
once more confided "to me the command of his ar- 
mies, and the defence of the state. But another in- 
cident occurred, which gave a bias to his judgment, 
and made me the object of his fixed aversion. 

I had finished my career ; and Narses, who suc- 
ceeded me in Italy, alleviated all the pains of my 
own inactivity by the victories he obtained over the 
enemies of my country. In this situation I imagined 
I had nothing left but to close the last scene of life 
in tranquillity, when of a sudden the Huns made an 
irruption into Thrace, and ravaged all the country 
round. The emperor deigned to recollect that I 
was still in being, and in my old age I was charged 
with the command of an expedition, by the event 
of which the empire was saved from ruin. I co- 
vered my grey hairs and the furrows of my forehead 
with an helmet, crusted over with ten years rust ". 

1 Dum interea civitas omnis tumultuando maximum ia 
modum perturbaretur, Belisarius, clarissimus olim prsefee- 
tus, et si pra3 senectute in curvitatem jam declinasset, mit~ 



204 
Fortune proved favourable, and I repulsed the Huns, 
who were advanced within a few miles of the ca- 
pital. I laid an ambush for the enemy, and it suc- 
ceeded so well that I was regarded by the people as 
a guardian god. The whole city, at my return, was 
one wild uproar of joy and exultation, to such a. de- 
gree, that I was much alarmed at the fatal conse- 
quences, which I then foresaw : but how to appease 
the violence of the populace ? The emperor was 
old, and age brings infirmities with it. The honours 
paid me by the multitude, and the excess of applause 
that rung throughout the city, were understood by 
Justinian as marks of disaffection, plainly indicating 
that his subjects were tired of his reign, and wished 
to see him abdicate his throne in favour of the ge- 
neral who defended it. Mistrust and jealousy took 
possession of him ; and without alleging any thing 
against me, he judged it right to remove so dan- 
gerous a man from his presence. While I passed 
my time in obscurity, a plot against the crown was 
discovered ; and the conspirators, without divulging 
their principal, died in the agony of torture. But 
the silence of those unhappy men was interpreted by 
my enemies, and Calumny furnished out a copious 
supplement. I was ordered into confinement ; dis- 
content spread among all ranks of men, till at length, 
touched with compassion for all my sufferings, the 
people expressed their feelings without reserve. Pity 

titur tamen per imperatorem in hostes. Et ipse quidem. 
de se, mir& animi promptitudine, juvenis munera exeque- 
batur. Id namque ultimum illi in viU certamen fait • nee 
sane minorem ex ea re tulit gloriam, quam ex VandaLis 
olim Gothisque devictis. Agathias y lib. v. 



205 

was soon inflamed to indignation, and by a general 
revolt the emperor was compelled to give me up to 
the clamours of my country. In depriving me of 
my eyes, I am persuaded, he thought he was dis- 
arming an enemy. That I was never disaffected to 
him, Heaven can bear me witness: but Heaven, that 
reads the hearts of men, has not given that power to 
princes. You accuse the emperor of ingratitude 
and injustice ; but it was his misfortune, and not his 
crime, to believe appearances which, perhaps, would 
have misled your judgment in the same manner. 

Yes, he is miserable, the most miserable of men, 
said Justinian, throwing his arms about the hero, 
and clasping him in his embrace. — What means 
this burst of anguish ? enquired Belisarius. — It is 
the agony of a heart ready to break, said Justinian: 
Oh ! Belisarius, that unjust master, that barbarous 
tyrant, who rent your eyes from their sockets, and 
reduced you thus to misery and want, in bitterness 
of sorrow and repentance, now embraces you, and 
throws himself thus upon you with all the compunc- 
tion of sensibility and love. — Thou my sovereign ! 
exclaimed Belisarius. — Yes, I am he ! Oh ! my 
friend ! my deliverer ! my protector ! Yes, thou best 
of men, yes, I am that unhappy prince, who has 
set the world an example of the basest cruelty and 
ingratitude. Let me, thus prostrate at your feet, 
be humbled to that depth of lowness which my 
guilt deserves/ I here forget my crown, dishonoured 
as it is by the vilest crimes ; I am unworthy to wear 
it longer. Nothing now befits me but thus to bathe 
the dust under your feet with my tears, and hide 



206 

my opprobrious head, thus overwhelmed with shame 
and infamy. 

And will you thus, said the hero, supporting his 
master, who was almost suffocated with sighs and 
tears ; and will you thus, said Belisarius, folding 
the emperor in his arms, abandon yourself to de- 
spair ? Shall the sense of a past error take away 
the power of atoning for it ? Oh ! my master, you 
are plunging yourself in shame and distraction, as 
if you were the first man deceived by appearances, 
and seduced by calumny ! Though your error were 
even a crime, yet why degrade yourself thus? 
Wherefore be humbled to an abject wretch, a thing 
vile and abhorred ? You are my sovereign still ; 
resume your strength, nor let the recollection of an 
unguarded moment rob you of a due reverence for 
yourself, and the true spirit of virtue. In this con- 
sternation of your heart, reflect upon all the good 
you have done mankind before that unhappy mo- 
ment, and let the remembrance of that support you. 
Belisarius is indeed blind ; but twenty nations by 
you are delivered from the yoke of barbarians, the 
calamities of the empire are all repaired by your 
princely beneficence, and thirty years of glorious 
struggle for the good of mankind, have proved to 
the universe, that Justinian was not a tyrant. Beli- 
sarius is blind ; but he forgives you : and, if you 
desire to repair the injury you have done him, the 
means are easy and in your power. Grant me only 
one of the many prayers and vows I offer up for the 
peace of the world, and I am more th3n indemnified. 
Come then, said the emperor, snatching him 



207 

again to his heart, come, and teach me to expiate 
my guilt ! Come and exhibit it to my perfidious 
court in all its striking colours ; and let your pre- 
sence, while it is a living memorial of my crime, be 
a proof of my repentance also. 

In vain did the hero use every entreaty to be left 
in solitude : to appease the anguish of the emperor's 
mind, he was obliged to comply with his request, 
and promise to accompany him. Then Justinian 
addressing himself to Tiberius, Oh ! what a debt, 
what an unspeakable debt do I now owe thee, my 
friend ! What recompense can equal the signal 
services thou hast done me? — It is true, my so- 
vereign, you are not rich enough, replied Tiberius, 
to recom pence me. Leave it to Belisarius to make 
me retribution. Poor as he is, he is yet master of 
a treasure which I prefer to all yours. — My only 
treasure is my daughter, said Belisarius, and I can- 
not dispose of her better. At these words he called 
for Eudoxa. My daughter, said he, fall on your 
knees to your sovereign, and solicit his approbation 
of your nuptial union with the virtuous Tiberius, 
At the name and sight of Justinian, the first emo- 
tion of nature in the heart of Belisarius's daugh- 
ter was mixed with dread and horror. A sudden 
shriek burst from her ; she started back, and turned 
aside. Justinian advanced towards her. Condescend, 
Eudoxa, said he, to listen to me ; deign to look 
upon me, and you will see me almost drowned in 
tears ; in tears that gush from the keenest anguish, 
and will never dry till I descend to the grave. 
Not this copious stream, not all "the good I have 
done, can blot out the memory of my guilt ; but 



208 

Belisarius has pardoned me ; and now, Eudoxa, now 
prove yourself his daughter, by following his example. 
1 To see the lovely Eudoxa given in marriage 
to Tiberius, was a degree of consolation to the em- 
peror ; and from that moment he felt his heart warmed 
with the soothing pleasures of innocence. 

A more unexpected revolution never disconcerted 
the intrigues of a court. The arrival of Belisarius 
threw them into trouble and consternation. Behold, 
said Justinian to his courtiers, see here again the 
hero ; behold this upright man, whom you made 
me condemn. Tremble, ye cowards ! His inno- 
cence and his virtues are now manifest to me, and 
your lives are at his disposal. Paleness, grief, and 
shame, covered every visage. In Belisarius they 
thought they beheld an inexorable judge ; they 
dreaded him as a vindictive and terrible god. The 
hero continued to support the same modest reserve 
that adorned him in disgrace. He never deigned to 
recognize any of his accusers ; and honoured to his 
death with the emperor's confidence, he made it his 
study to obtain an amnesty for the past, and to inspire 
his master with a vigilant attention to the present, 
and an awful severity to control all future crimes. 
But he did not live long enough for the good of 
mankind, and the glory of his master. The em- 
peror, quite enfeebled and dispirited, contented him- 
self with shedding a few tears to his memory, and 
the counsels of Belisarius died with himself. 

THE END. 



PRINTED BY C. WHITT1NGHAM, 

Dean Street, Fetter-Lane. 



THE MTTEE AR3I-CHAIR, 



BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE CLOUDS." 



An old man sat in an old arm-chair, 
When in there came with boisterous joy, 
His great grandchild, a little boy, 
"With a small arm-chair he had found>onie- 

where 
In an old out-house, up an old out stair ; 
And he set it down by the old man there. 

It had been his own in early years, 









From the dingy wood of that haunted chair ; 
And the old man's eyes ran down with tears 
As he read that pictured hornbook o'er 
Which gave him back the days of yore. 

In turn, his brothers and sisters, ten. 
Had claimed and called that chair their own, 
And there each sat on his little throne — 
A little race of great small men — 
Xike kings elsewhere, for a little space, 
Till a rival came and took his place. 

And another set, with toy and shout, 
His own six sons and daughters sweet, 
Had kept possession of that seat 
Till the chair itself had thrust them out, 
Ajs thrusts its teeming tenants forth, 
The old ancestral arm-chair, earth- 
All saving one, a daughter fair, 
Who had breathed her last in that loved arm- 
chair. 

And then the chair it was put away ; 
And time rolled on, and, one by one, 
A daughter now, and then a son, 
Went out into the world's highway ; 
And, after many years had gone, 
The old, old man was left alone. 

Save by that boy, whose mother dear 
Her widow's sorrows meekly bore, 
And watched his second childhood o'er, 
And strove his drooping heart to cheer j 
And there in tears, in his old arm-chair, 

7. The old man sat with hoary hair, 
.. j^AjAr-w/rvikled front and temples bare, 

And' gazed and wept on that small arm-chair 
Which his great grandchild had put down 
there. 






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